


Making Secrets We Can't Keep

by Clara_Watson



Series: Quiet Birds AU [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Everyone's bisexual i swear, F/M, Female Reader, Mentions of NCIS because stealing other peoples canon is easier than making your own, Multiple original characters - Freeform, Non-Canon Cases, There may or may not be a vegas wedding crammed in here, Trying to keep as close to canon as possible, and nintendogs, canon cases, oop there be smut here, plot with the promise of smut, too many references to the early 2000's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 55
Words: 118,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Watson/pseuds/Clara_Watson
Summary: A mandatory investigation is undertaken after the death of your husband, and staying on team with the BAU doesn't look likely. However, when an ultimatum arrives in the shape of a new job offer, it's up to you to decide whether you take it or leave it.~ starts at 4x03 ~! THIS IS PART TWO !
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader, Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Series: Quiet Birds AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930975
Comments: 304
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: it's not even an hour to DC from Quantico  
> Me: it's literally less time than you take driving to get groceries  
> Also Me: writes going to DC like it's a 17 hour drive and you can't go home for a nap.

The day before you go to DC, you introduce Aaron to Sam Kassmeyer. It's at a cute little cafe and despite being meticulously planned, it looks like an accidental meet up. It's awkward at first, like any first meeting, but you guess the two of them find something to talk about while you're ordering because you come back and it's like they're old buddies. 

The day you leave for DC, Aaron comes over before work with a spare bag for Saskia because you realise you haven't got one. 

"Got everything?" Aaron asks as he closes Saskia's car door. 

"Aaron I'm going to court not a road trip." You watch him nod methodically then look back at you and pout. "I'll be back in a fortnight." 

"Promise?" 

"Promise." You brush imaginary dirt off his shoulder and kiss him lightly. "Have fun at work without me." 

He does the most dramatic groan and twirl you’ve ever seen in your life and with one last look back you climb into the car, Saskia waving frantically at him as you pull away. 

“He’s very dramatic,” Saskia exclaims as she falls back in her seat. 

“Aaron’s dramatic?” you tease, raising your eyebrow at her. 

“Uh huh.” There’s a long silence, one that stretches on for the majority of the Hannah Montana CD your daughter has roped you into listening to, and then Saskia leans forward. “Can we call Dad before bed?”

You glance at her, unable to hide the smile that spreads over your face. “Of course we can. Sweetie?”

“Yeah?” she says, pulling her feet up on the seat. 

“You know you can call Aaron ‘Dad’ when he’s around, right? You don’t have to wait until he’s not here to say it.”

Saskia scrunches her face up like she’s thinking about it. “I have to ask Jack first. And then ask Dad.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Saskia chirps back.

***

You’ve always hated court rooms because they’re always uncomfortably cold. Not cool enough to wear a jacket or a sweater, not warm enough to take one off if you were wearing it. So you’ve opted for a cute little skirt-suit in a pale pink that makes you look like you’ve walked out of Legally Blonde. At least it feels somewhat safe, even if you’re still an awkward temperature.

“Agent Garza?” a woman steps forward, hand outstretched.

“Agent y/l/n,” you correct, shaking her hand. “No longer Garza.” 

“Good,” she breathes. “I’m Agent Reno.” Your stand-in defense prosecutor (replaced by the agency last minute for whatever reason). “This shouldn’t take longer than a couple of days,” she says.

You frown, but keep the rest of your face in a polite-conversation kind of smile. “I was told to book out two weeks.”

Reno lets go of your hand and nods. “That’s for the stuff that comes after.”

“After?” you repeat, dumbfounded, as though you’re not an FBI agent. And Reno just smiles at you like she knows something you don’t. 

***

You spend four days being interrogated back and forth about your marriage, your divorce, the years between. Questions around and around about the less-than-twenty-four-hours you spent with Felix before Haley (or, according to what you were telling the court, You) hit him with the car. Twice. And then shot. They just keep talking circles like they’re going to catch you in a lie.

And maybe they would have. But Haley was too important to dob in at this point youre better at lying than most people give you credit for. 

Reno packs up the files when your court case is finally closed, then hands you a business card with an address on the back.

“Meet me there at six,” she says and doesn’t give you a chance to question it. 

You see Saskia off with a couple of FBI agents you used to work with. They’re dropping her at HQ in Quantico at some ungodly late hour but Aaron’s already said he’ll pick her up. His exact words were “it’s not like I’m going anywhere else”. Any other time you would have lectured him about staying in the office late but not when it meant he’d be around to pick Saskia up. It was way better than convincing your dad to pick her up after his bedtime.

You meet Reno in an important looking restaurant, way out the back behind a heavy curtain. You wonder if you should have changed into something more official. Reno doesn’t wait for you to sit, she just flicks you a file. A thick file.

“This is your dissertation, yes?” Reno says. You glance at her, then flick the folder open.

“Yes,” you confirm, then peel it back. There’s a collection of profiles you’d made as favours to friends in law enforcement. A couple of reports you’ve written up in your free time because something was bothering you. “These aren’t, though, these are reports. They have nothing to do with my dissertation.”

“Uh huh,” Reno says, pulling out two more files and putting them side by side. “But these two that you wrote, you postulated they were connected.” 

“I did.” You don’t sit, just eye her off as she bundles the files back up and puts them back in her bag. “I pushed it but no one listened so I dropped it. Their loss.”

“The CIA confirmed the connection you postulated was true last week.” She motions for you to sit. “They’d like you to join their team.”

You try not to look surprised as she pulls the curtains closed, then sits across from you. You shake your head.

“I have a job I enjoy, no offense, and I’m not exactly looking to move. But thank you for the offer.” An offer, you think, that you really should take. But you’d probably have to move back to DC and that means leaving Aaron and moving Saskia again, and while it’s really not long distance it might as well with the kind of hours you and Aaron both would hold. 

“Nothing would change,” Reno says. “Files would come across your desk, a little extra digging on your days off, one or two extra lectures here and there. You’d have to keep it to yourself, though. Your employers won’t know you work for us, neither will the people you love.”

“I wouldn’t want them biting off more than they can chew,” you say, eyeing off her bag. “It’s not exactly a clear cut situation at work.”

“Your ex-husband shot your Boss in the foot, and you appear to be dating the agent in control of your team.” She pulls out your personnel file and taps at it.

“Doesn’t appear, I am in a relationship with him,” you correct. Reno hums in agreement.

“Right you are. If you take this job, things would get a lot less complicated. Paperwork would be miraculously filled out, or disappear, indiscretions would be covered up faster than you can lie about them.” She holds your gaze and you fight to remain calm, because by the way she’s looking at you you’re sure she’s threatening you.

“Are you threatening me?” you enquire so calmly you might as well be flirting with her.

“We wouldn’t want the security cameras from that car park to suddenly start working again, would we?” Reno says softly. “It would be a shame for the court to find out that your boyfriend’s ex-wife was at the wheel of the car that hit your ex-husband. Twice.”

You nod. Threatening you indeed. 

“There is a matter of finances,” Reno says. “Should you take the job, you will be compensated. If you didn’t have such a close relationship with your team, we would just deposit it into your bank account. However, I understand this may not be viable for the time being.” She studies you, pursing her lips, then slides across a piece of paper.

It’s two bank accounts, one untouchable until the event of your wedding and you can (legally) share your job status with your partner. The second, college money for Saskia. And it’s a good amount of money in both.

“That’s just for joining,” Reno says. 

“If I were to say yes, could I make an amendment?” you pull a pen out of your pocket as Reno nods. “I want this” (you tap at Saskia’s tuition account) “matched with an account for Jack Hotchner. And this,” (you tap at the marriage account), “split in two. One half goes to Haley Brooks. If she’s ever in financial difficulties--”

“We trickle a little in at a time,” Reno says and you nod. “Understood. Why didn’t you enquire about your father?”

“He’s already got a steady trickle of mysterious money coming in,” you smile sweetly. “It wasn’t his sick leave money that kept us afloat after my mother mysteriously disappeared.”

“Very perceptive of you.”

You have to smile when she doesn’t deny your mother’s involvement with the CIA.

“Someone had to be.”

You order dinner, making polite conversation with Reno. Polite conversation that really means nothing, you can’t believe you’ve spent so long talking about the weather. 

“Say, Reno?” you say as you finish your meal. “How much can I get away with if I take this job?” 

She studies you. “In the shape of Garza?”

“I mean there are certain things I have gotten away with since joining the BAU, such as dating my boss, which I believe all ended up being my ex-husband’s doing. I wouldn’t want that all to go away.” 

“Aaron Hotchner was not Felix Garza’s doing. I believe you have Detective Harden to thank for that.” Reno taps her fork against her lips. “Let us just say, that should you kill the president we would have it in our power to make it look like an accident.”

“I had no idea I meant so much to the CIA,” you giggle playfully.

“So you’ll take the job?”

“Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ ahhhhhhh welcome to part twooooooo this is going to be FUN ~  
> This title isn't as clever as the last! haha. But it's inspired from the song "King Sized Bed" by Caylee Hammock. (fun song!)  
> ~ also, the series name is strongly inspire (lol it's full ripped) from Isobel Knight's song "The Next Time I'm Back" because it's just... very fitting. ~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ what could be more angsty than 4x03 (minimal loss) and not being able to go with the team?? mwahaha ~

“How’s it going?” Aaron asks. 

He’s called you because it’s a slow day at work, mostly just paperwork, and apparently even Morgan has kicked back. You’ve already heard complaints about how hot the office had been before they got someone in to fix the aircon. You can’t even tease him because you’re lying on your hotel bed in your underwear with a pedestal fan blowing on you.

“It’s fine. It’s just court, court, court and more court.” (A lie, but Aaron doesn’t need to know that). You blow air dramatically and fan yourself with your hands. “Reid and Prentiss are in Colorado?”

“Cult.”

“Cult,” you echo like it explains everything. “How’s Saskia?”

“Scaring the people at school,” Aaron chuckles and you can hear him twirling his pen around his desk. “Someone asked her why she was away from school and she said that lying was bad. So she just told the truth.”

“Lying is bad,” you counter, and smile when he chuckles. “Guess I’ll have to get around to teaching her to lie by omission.”

“Maybe. How are you really doing?”

“I’d rather be wading through the bayou in my underwear, being hunted by gators and an unsub, in the middle of summer.”

“That’s very specific.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about where I’d rather be. I’ve exhausted my repertoire of home daydreams, squashed the work ones, so I’ve moved on to being hunted by gators.”

“Remind me never to let you get bored.”

You make a little ‘aw’ sound and roll over, patting the bed for the TV remote. “I’d never get bored around you. You’re too cute. Is it bad that I just want to be home, eating a bowl of peas and corn?”

“Just peas and corn?” Aaron asks in disgust.

“Fuck yeah.” You’ve eaten far too many restaurant meals, cafeteria sandwiches and burgers for a lifetime. With disgust you realise how grown-up the whole idea is. “Saskia might hate it though. I’ll give her a singular chicken nugget on top of her peas and corn.”

“That sounds like torture.”

“Doesn’t it?” you respond dreamily. 

Your conversation is interrupted by Morgan’s distressed yell of ‘Hotch!’ and the phone’s dropped. You sit up, turning the TV on and flicking through the news stations to see if the source of upset was there. 

And it surely was. 

A shoot out at the Separatarian Sect Ranch, thirty minute gun shoot out. You hang up before Aaron gets back, texting him.

To: Aaaaaronnnn  
Ill do what I can from here. Love you.

He texts you back as you’re running a comb through your hair, already dressed in the Barbie-meets-legally-blonde suit. You’ve made far too many phone calls, and while you still can’t get out there because you’re not cleared for field work yet, Agent Fornell’s pulled a few strings and you’ve got a room at HQ in DC that you can work from because you’re too buzzed to drive back to the office.

Text from: Aaaaaronnnn  
I love you.

You smile and press your phone to your chest. It’s the closest you can get to a hug. Then you’re shoving everything into your bag and (literally) hauling ass to your old work.

***

“Dan. Torre.” you say forcefully as you climb the fire escape stairs to the office Agent Fornell got you (only so you still have reception instead of being cut off by the elevator). “He’s the best and closest you’ve got.” You’ve worked with him twice, and you know he’s the best that the team can get. 

There’s a shuffling of paperwork, then a chorus of agreements, and you’re changed over lines. There’s barely a ring before Torre answers.

“Torre.”

“You’re going to the Separatarian Ranch,” you tell him as you shoulder the door and flash a wave to an old colleague. “You’re working with SSA Hotchner and Rossi, good agents, you need to trust their instincts. Understood?”

“Understood, Ma’am.” 

“Do what you think needs doing before they turn up, better to step on their toes than not have anything done.” You flash your ID as you slip down a corridor, then into your make-shift office. “Kick the Attorney General’s ass for me if he turns up.”

Torre laughs. “Understood, Ma’am.”

“Good.” And you hang up, pulling out your laptop and dialing Garcia’s number. She answers after two rings but the day’s events are too heavy for the usual greeting. “Where do you want me digging, Garcia?” 

“Anything on the sect leader, I’ve got nothing.”

“Understood. I’ll call you back when I’ve got something”

“Got it.”

***

When the ranch explodes you’re still in DC, if only because you feel useless. You watch the whole thing on your laptop, clutching your phone to wait for an update. You’re sure Garcia is doing the same. You know you could have just driven home, but it’s that… well, the useless feeling that leaves you in the small office.

Someone wraps their knuckles at your door and you close your laptop, shoving your phone in your bag.

“Uh huh?” you say before you realise it’s him, correcting yourself with, “Hello sir.”

He hands you a small card with a name on it. “The name of the mole inside the Attorney General’s office, your team was at the ranch, right?” 

“Yes sir.” You take it, turning it over in your hand.

“I can’t encourage, nor condone, the behaviour you may show now you’re in possession of this information. However, should you meet me in my office, and I not be there, whatever happens on my phone would remain confidential.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “And when would that be, sir?”

“Twenty minutes?”

You nod.

Rinsing the mole for all he’s worth is, honestly, the best thing that’s ever happened in your life. The thrill of it is only lessened when that damned Attorney General decided to interrupt the call, and despite the director coming back in his office, you don’t hang up until you’re sure both men are crying. And only then, do you hang up.

“Sounds like you could be director one day,” he says. Whatever face he pulls, he’s impressed by you. 

“In my dreams,” you smile politely. “That’s literally the last thing I ever want to do.”

“A shame,” he smiles. You shrug.

“Thank-you,” you say, tapping at his phone. “I’m gonna go wait at the air strip for the team.” 

And he doesn’t even seem to mind when you leave without saying anything else.

***

Garcia joins your ‘air strip stake out’ an hour after you arrive. She brings the gift of dinner, that she presents like a prized trophy as she presses a burger into your hand and watches as you pick it apart, dropping soggy lettuce into the paper you’d dropped in your lap.

“They’re okay,” Garcia says softly, reaching over to squeeze your knee. 

“I know.” You peel the top off your burger, staring at the beef patty like it might suddenly beg you to eat it, and when it doesn’t you scrape the onions off the top, dropping those too into your lap.

“How was court?” 

“Fine.” You don’t mean to be snappy with Garcia but you’re tired and stressed and still worried about the team even though you’ve reassured yourself multiple times that they’re fine. “They didn’t let me out my room unless we were going to court, or dinner with Reno, and I thought I was going insane.”

“Who’s Reno?”

“Defense prosecutor or something,” you mumble. Not untrue. “Do you ever feel useless when you’re stuck back here, and they’re out there?”

Garcia shrugs. “Most times, but I like not being on the field. I think.”

The car gets uncomfortably warm and you place your burger down without eating it, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes. 

“Technically I’m not supposed to be in the field again. But I swear, I wanted so badly to go out there. I wanted to just get a domestic flight and just go even though I knew I couldn’t,” you confess to her.

“Maybe there was a higher power looking out for you,” she offers. “I can’t imagine how the team would have done if you were there. They’re still protective of you after…” and she peters off. A wave of nausea washes over you.

“Don’t mention higher powers until I’ve forgotten about Felix,” you say weakley. “He wasn’t exactly the high power I wished for.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” 

The silence drags on until Garcia reaches for the radio, flicking it on as you’re both assaulted with ‘NOBODY’S PERFECT’ and you’re both flailing to turn it off. 

“What is that?” Garcia laughs.

“Hannah Montana,” you groan. “Saskia’s obsessed. She’s a normal kid turned popstar. The only redeeming factor is that Saskia’s quiet for twenty minutes of the day. And she says ‘sweet niblets!’ instead of ‘fuck’.” 

Garcia chuckles. “Is it as good as High School Musical?”

You squint at her. “No. Nothing is as good as fake-Grease. You’ve watched High School Musical?”

“Oh yeah, I know all the words to all the songs.” You watch as she shimmies in her seat, singing her own little rendition of ‘Breaking Free’. And for a moment you forget about the team, about your week, month, everything, you just exist in this bubble where Garcia’s singing to her heart’s content.

“I’m pretty sure I have the burnt CD somewhere under that chair,” you laugh when she finishes and you’ve never seen her so excited to find something. She sifts through your CD’s until she finds the white CD with your daughter’s hand writing with ‘High scool musical’ written over the top with the ‘h’ in school desperately trying to squish back into the word.

You go through the CD twice, both of you singing every available part, before the jet lands. Both of your smiles and laughs fade from your face, but there’s still that little glow of happiness buried in both your hearts.

“Thank-you, Garcia,” you smile at her, squeezing her hand. Then you’re both climbing out the car, hovering awkwardly at the bonnet of your car as you wait for the team to descend the stairs. 

Morgan’s the first down, limping, and his face scrunches as he sees the two of you. 

“No hugs,” he says. “I’m too sore.” 

You nod, not moving from your perch against your car. “I just wanted visual confirmation you’re all okay.”

“Prentiss is banged up, but fine,” Morgan says by way of warning and you rub his arm as he passes you, Garcia spinning off and going with him. Spencer struggles down the stairs, JJ behind him like she would catch him if he falls (which makes you even more nervous) but his face lights up when he sees you.

“You okay?” you ask as he stumbles towards you. He just nods and wraps his arms around you and you smile softly as you hug him back, rubbing small circles over his back.

“I’m okay,” he says into your shoulder and you squeeze him lightly, if only because he seems to be favouring his stomach and ribs. 

Emily’s worse for wear, and she too declines a hug, but you squeeze her hand and offer her a ride home which she accepts gladly. Dave almost knocks the wind out of you when he hugs you, which you have to laugh at ‘cause he looks fine compared to everyone else.

Aaron doesn’t hug you, he just takes your hand and presses his forehead to yours, not saying anything until the team are all in their cars, Prentiss in the back seat of yours and you can see her pulling toys out of places there shouldn’t be toys.

“That case was shit,” he says without moving his mouth. 

“I know,” you whisper and squeeze his hand.

“If I hug you I’m going to lose it.” He kisses your forehead. “What’s the time?”

“So late at night that it’s early in the morning.”

“Where’s Saskia?”

“Dad’s.”

He nods slowly, as if measuring his question, and then asks, “wanna stay at mine?”

“We have to drop Prentiss off first.”

“Deal.”

You climb into the car, bundling up your abandoned burger, and holding it out to Aaron and you know Prentiss is watching the both of you.

“Want a burger?” you ask, feeling around to put your keys in the ignition.

“Sure?” he says, uncertain, as he takes it from you and unwraps it. “You dissected it.”

“It’s a build-your-own,” you respond innocently and Emily laughs before groaning and clutching at her stomach. “Sorry,” you tell her softly, and completely ignore it when she brushes you off.

***

You drop your bag inside Aaron’s door as he goes straight for the liquor, pouring himself a glass before offering you one. You shake your head.

“It’ll go straight to my head,” you tell him when you realise you haven’t eaten at all. He nods, collapsing onto the couch, groaning as he does so. 

You rustle his hair as you pass him, going into his room and finding a shirt you can wear as pyjamas. You grab one of his grey shirts, shimmy out of your pant-suit like thing, and pull it on. When you come back out Aaron’s become a slug on the couch, his body moulding to the cushions. 

“Hey, big boy,” you whisper, climbing onto the couch and sit cross legged next to him, running your hand through his hair. “You did a good job today.”

“You don’t know that,” he groans. 

You rub your thumb against his temple. “Everyone came home, you did a good job. I know that.” 

He leans into your touch, nodding softly. “Thank you.”

“Wanna talk?” you offer and his eyes creep open, shaking his head. But there’s this sadness to him. “Do you want me to hold you until you fall asleep?”

His eyebrows knit together and the softness reaches his eyes and you think he might cry as he nods softly.

“Okay,” you say quietly, untangling yourself from the couch and holding a hand out to him. He eyes it off suspiciously, then takes it and you haul him from the couch which makes him gasp a little. You’re sure it’s supposed to be a laugh.

When you’re in bed Aaron pretty much curls into a ball, and you curl yourself around him, wrapping your arms over his stomach and burying your face between his shoulder blades. 

You’re hovering on the edge of sleep when Aaron talks. It’s barely audible, but you can feel the sobs that rake through his body that rouse you enough to squeeze his shoulder.

“Aaron?” you whisper.

“She was fifteen.” he sobs as you sit up, rubbing his back. “Her mom was right there. All she wanted was to keep her kid safe. And then her kid just--”

And, fuck, does your heart break. You crawl over him so that you can pull him into you and he just sobs into your chest, arms clutching at you. He falls asleep like that, still sniffling, while you run your hands methodically through his hair. 

***

Aaron wakes to his neighbours vacuuming. He doesn’t even care because you’re draped over his body, hand laced in his, the other one in his hair. You stir slightly and he pulls you into him, humming quietly until you quiet, and he kind of wishes every morning was like this.

But he’s not sure he’s going to tell you that.

Not just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not the strongest chapter i've written in my life but we're going to deal with it.  
> ~I'M SO SORRY THAT I MADE THIS SAD~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ there be some smut hidden amongst this chapter ~

When you wake the bed is empty. You feel around for your phone to text Aaron something about having a good day at work when you hear the faint clatter of pots and pans.

You push the covers back and pad out to the kitchen, soothing down your hair and holding your waist as you cock your head at him. 

"Good morning," you smile and Aaron's head snaps up like he's a deer caught in headlights. 

"I was going to make you breakfast in bed," he pouts. 

"I can go back to bed if you want," it's supposed to be a playful tease but he blinks dramatically and you think he might cry if you don't go back. So you cross the room, kiss his cheek, and climb back into bed.

Twenty minutes later Aaron comes in with a tray of scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice. 

"How did I get so lucky?" You smile as Aaron hands you the tray, climbing into bed beside you. He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Have you eaten?" You watch him as he nods. 

"I have." He leans back into the pillows and grabs a book from his nightstand. 

And it's the best morning ever. 

***

When no one calls in for work, and no one's willing to text Aaron and admit they turned up, you both put on a trashy movie you fished out a discount bin. He texts the team, telling them to come in after three (only because after three is when you have to pick up Saskia, and you’re going home, and you’re not cleared for office work yet). And maybe, maybe, you would have been watching whatever horrendous atrocity you’ve put on, if Aaron hadn't knelt in front of you and buried his face between your legs.

And now you're arched against the back of his couch, muffling your moans against your arm as he kitten licks at your clit, his fingers pumping inside of you. 

He doesn't pause as he looks up at you, closing his mouth over your clit and sucking lightly. Your mouth falls open, whimpering as pleasure washes through you. 

He chuckles against you and your hand flies to his hair. You tug it lightly as he smirks, doing it again, and you barely have time to warn Aaron before you're coming, moaning into your hand. 

Aaron smiles as he removes his fingers, sucking them off and you smile at him blissfully as he comes up, kissing you and you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

"I love you," you say against his lips as he shifts both of you so you're lying back against the couch. He lines himself up with you, brushing against your entrance.

He kisses you in response, harsh and passionate and honestly it's better than hearing it said back. He catches your gasp with his mouth as he inches inside you, before parting, his hand cupping your cheek as he watches you. 

Having sex on the couch isn’t exactly the most romantic thing the two of you have ever done. But you don’t mind because it’s the way he leans into you, how his hands find your hair, how he holds you that makes your heart flutter. 

It’s surely not the way you both fall off the couch, narrowly missing the coffee table. There’s a moment where neither of you react, you’re just lying there trying to make sure that both of you are fine. Then Aaron loses it, laughing until he’s gasping for breath. And you do too.

You’re not sure you’ve laughed that hard in a long time.

“Are you okay?” you finally ask when you’ve stopped laughing, but Aaron divulges into giggles again and you lose it too. 

“I’m fine,” he says at last, the laugh still in his voice. He brushes your hair out of your face, kissing your nose. “Are you? That was quite the tumble.”

“I guess we’ll find out when I bruise,” you laugh and Aaron groans. “I guess the universe told us floor sex is what we should be having.”

Aaron nods, peppering kisses over your shoulder. 

“Sounds like a plan,” he mumbles into your neck, lining himself up with you once more. You run your hands through his hair as he buries himself deep into you. 

You run your hands over his biceps as he thrusts steadily into you, over his chest, nails brushing against his neck and he moans--almost playfully. When you trace his open mouth with your fingers he catches them in his mouth, sucking on them. He grazes his teeth over them, soothing each graze with his tongue. 

“Fuck you’re pretty,” you breathe and his eyes flutter and he looks so gorgeous that you think you might explode. Your stomach knots and Aaron knows far before you do, leaning down and breathing into your neck before you’re fluttering around him, on the brink of orgasm, and Aaron buries himself deep inside you as he cums. And fuck if you don’t follow closely after him. 

He leaves you, even if you do protest, and lies on his back next to you, breathing heavily. You find his hand when your brain starts to work once more, squeezing it. 

“I love you but we’ve gotta start using protection more regularly,” you breathe, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. He groan-hums in agreement and rolls into your side, nestling his face into the crook of your neck.

“I know,” he says quietly. “Sorry.”

“Mmmm,” you hum, scritching at his hair. “Don’t apologise. It takes two to tango.” You pat his chest and sit up slowly. “I need a shower before I make a mess on your floor. Join me?”

And Aaron just looks at you like you mean the world and nods.

***

You’re both in the shower when Morgan calls. Aaron smiles apologetically when he answers, and you can’t even be mad when he leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You make do with what you have when you get out of the shower (it becomes increasingly obvious that you need to leave some stuff at Aaron’s).

He hands you your keys as you come out, his grey t-shirt tucked into a pair of shorts you found at the bottom of your go-bag.

“You look really good,” he says softly as he pulls you into him, kissing you lightly. “Where’d the shirt come from?”

You laugh when you realise he’s deadly serious and not fishing for a ‘your drawer’ answer. 

“It’s yours,” you smile and it looks like his brain stutters. And you leave his apartment knowing he has that dumb, stunned look on his face.

***

“We’re worried about your daughter,” Mr. Davids says. He points you to the tiny kid-sized chairs and you watch her on the playground through the window. “Just the other day she said she got kidnapped--”

Which is when you realise you never told the school what happened with Felix. You don’t have time to interject because Mr. Davids keeps talking.

“Today some of the kids were discussing the news from last night, that explosion at the cult thing, and Saskia lost it. She’s been restless all afternoon, usually the threat of running laps is enough to get her to settle down but today she just did it. Five laps, in fact.” He stops for a breath and by the look on his face there’s more. “One of the older kids, well.” He scrubs at his eyebrow. “To be completely honest with you, he had it coming, but one of the older kid’s has been… unkind… towards her, today she pushed him off the climbing frame.”

“Was he hurt?”

“Well, no.”

“Why’s there an issue then?” you don’t mean to say it out loud, but you do, and you’re left with Mr. Davids staring at you. 

“She pushed a kid off a climbing frame.” 

It’s your turn to stare back, because if you say anything else you’ll be digging yourself an early grave. And Saskia as well.

“Right. Sorry. Yes, I’ll talk to her.”

“Is everything okay at home? I know you took a new job, Saskia talks about it often, but--” he splays his hands as though opening the floor to you and you realise that’s exactly what he’s doing.

“Uh, yeah, no. It just slipped my mind to call the school.” There’s really no other way to say it, but to tell the truth really would freak him out. You stick with the truth anyway. “My ex-husband, who was murdered, that one, was alive, and he did in fact kidnap her. And me. He’s dead now, so like, it’s fine, but there’s that.”

And then it dawns on you that Aaron was supposed to pick Saskia up before the ranch, and when he didn’t, she would have put two and two together, and the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. 

“I’ll keep her home for a couple of days, talk to her.” You grab your handbag and smile at him. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Mr. Davids says, standing with you. 

“I know, but I think it’s what she needs. It’s been a rough run of it lately.”

***

Do not grill your daughter.

Do not grill your daughter

Do. NOT. grill. Your. daughter.

“Why’d you push the kid off the climbing frame?” Fuck. You used the interrogation voice. 

And Saskia knows it because she completely clams up, sinking into her seat. You watch her in the revision mirror when you’re not watching the road, praying to the higher powers that be that she’s not too good for your interrogation voice.

You can see her crack as you pull into the driveway. She’s trying hard not to, but she’s dangerously close to it. You park the car, turning in your seat to look back at her.

“Mr. Davids says he had it coming,” you add, somewhat helpfully. Saskia mumbles something incoherent. “Sweetie?”

“He keeps being mean to the other girls. He moves their stuff and hides it.”

“Who?”

“Zack,” she says with all the disgust a little girl can muster. “Today he told me because my mom worked for the FBI he was going to blow me up like he saw on the news and I told him I’d push him and he said I wouldn’t so I did. Morgan said I shouldn’t make empty threats, so I didn’t.”

She says it so calmly you think she might be a sociopath. Honestly and truthfully. You also make a note to talk to Morgan, tell him to dumb down the life lessons until she’s fifteen. 

“Did Mr. Davids also tell you that I had to run laps today because I punched a kid in the face?”

“No,” you say carefully so she doesn’t clam up again.

Apparently, that’s the wrong thing to say, because she growls something primal, undoes her seat belt, and storms inside with a dramatic slamming of both car and front door. You follow her, but she’s barred herself in her room. Literally. When you try to open the door it slams closed again with immense force. 

“Saskia?” you call, to which you’re greeted by an incredibly adolescent ‘I HATE YOU’ that’s come three years too early. “Sweetie?”

“I’m not talking to you.”

You lean up against her door, sliding down the wooden panels until you’re sitting back to the door.

“Saskia?”

“I’m not talking to you.”

You breathe heavily, tempted to bury your head between your knees and scream.

“Who do you want to talk to?”

“Auntie Haley.”

You sit there for forty-five minutes like Saskia’s going to change her mind, but you’re just as stubborn as each other, and she’s still on her ‘only talking to Haley’ streak so you end up calling her.

“Haley?” you say weakly as you pace the kitchen, eyes trained on Saskia’s room. “Can you come be a better mother than me?”

“Why?” Haley says but you hear the jingle of keys. “You’re the best mother I know.”

“Apparently not today.” You stalk down the corridor, knock on your daughter’s bedroom door and you don’t even say her name before she says:

“I’m only going to talk to Auntie Haley.”

When you put the phone back to your ear you can hear Haley laughing sympathetically. “I’ll come over. I’m bringing Jack and Jess too, we’ll have a movie night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there might have been some hidden smut, but ultimately this chapter whittled down to parenting haha. fml.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emergerd a wild Haley has appeared amongst some angst.

Haley comes armed with a large stuffed bear that looks all too familiar.

“She always helped you,” Haley explains, shaking the bears arms. You’re surprised she even has the bear you’d won at that carnival all those years ago. “She’s in here?” she taps at Saskia’s door and you nod. Haley tugs at your (...Aaron’s) shirt as she turns Saskia’s door handle. “Looks good on you. Saskia?”

And all the powers that be should be damned because your daughter actually opens the door. Jess smiles awkwardly from the doorway, not quite coming into your house. Jack wraps his arms around your legs in greeting before shooting down the corridor to the toys that you’ve already laid out in the lounge. 

“You can come in, Jess,” you smile. She’s hesitant, but she nods and follows you in. “Tea?” you ask when you’re in the kitchen. You pull out your tea box (only purchased because of Aaron) and show her the assortment until she picks one.

“Haley said we should talk,” Jess says meekly and you nod.

“I’m really sorry about last time we saw each other.” You grab a mug out of your cupboard and flick the kettle on. “I shouldn’t have walked out like that.” You think back to when Haley told you that she cheated on Aaron, which feels like a lifetime ago.

Jess shrugs as she pulls a chair out, sitting down and twirling a coaster around on the table. 

“You were always protective of your friends,” Jess says. “I was surprised it was as quiet as it was. I remember when Brigita cheated on Sean, you lost your shit.” She grimaces as she looks at Jack, but he’s completely oblivious. “I kind of always wanted you as a sister.”

You drop the tea bag into the mug. “Do you have someone you want me to destroy? Because I can do that.”

“Not right now.” Jess smiles at you and you smile back at her.

“You’ve got my number. Feel free to call me at any time if you want someone flattened.”

“Haley said you and” (she motions to Jack, then makes a motion to say ‘taller’) “are an item now.” You feel yourself tense up, and you look at her almost guiltily. If she wanted you as a sister for your fierceness, then you could return exactly the same sentiment.

“Uh… yeah.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Sorry,” you add.

“It was always there,” she tells you, almost brushing you off. “Haley took a little to adapt to it, but, hey. She’s happy.”

You eye Jess off as you pour water into her mug. “Always there?”

“That trip you both took before graduation, when you thought your dad was getting posted? We all swore black and blue something happened, even though the two of you said it didn’t.”

“Ew, gross, no,” you think, casting your mind back to your seventeen-year-old self who’d spent a weekend mostly smashed and then the next two days throwing up while Aaron held your hair back. “He stopped me from doing something stupid. He was completely devoted to Haley.”

“He’s a good guy.” 

“Yeah. Milk? Sugar?”

“Two.” She taps against the table. “How long did it take you to sleep together?” 

“Jess,” you say softly, but you already know your face is red. She stares you down. “A couple of weeks after New York?”

Jess blows out a breath dramatically. “That’s a lot of self-restraint.”

You glare at her, putting the completed tea in front of her harder than you probably should have. “Sister privileges are revoked if you’re going to interrogate my restraint.” 

“Au contraire,” she teases, “I think I just unlocked the sister-tea-slam.”

“Probably.”

Jess kicks out the chair opposite her and motions to it. “Are you doing okay? After--” she draws a line over her neck and pulls a dramatic face. 

“Yeah. I think so. Apparently I’m not doing so well on the mothering front.”

“I think you’re doing fine,” Jess smiles and you raise an eyebrow. “She’s not turning out anything like you.”

You mock laugh. “Thanks Jess.”

“You’re welcome.”

***

You and Jess end up on the lounge floor, building block towers as high as you can, as Jack crawls around the two of you, alternating between being a cat and a dog. Then sometimes he breaks character just to be Jack and he knocks over the tower screaming ‘I’m a giant!’. 

On the last round you catch Jack before he can knock the blocks down, making noisy-kisses against him as Jess tries to protect the tower while Jack claims he can take it down. You finally let him go and he launches for it, throwing his arms in the air triumphantly when the blocks collapse. 

“Missy miss miss,” Haley says quietly from the door. “You’ve got a daughter who wishes to speak to you.”

You clamber up off the floor, ruffling Jack’s hair when he looks at you asks where you’re going. You push Saskia’s door open tentatively with one finger, giving her a weak smile as you see her perched on her bed, arms wrapped around the bear tightly. The amount of times you’ve cried into that bear is ridiculous. What’s more ridiculous is to see your daughter do the same.

“Hey Sweet Cheeks,” you whisper, taking a seat next to her. 

“I don’t really hate you, Mom,” she says quietly. 

You scrunch up your face and cup the back of her head, pulling her into your chest so she can’t see how close you are to crying.

“I know,” you whisper, hooking your arms under her legs and pulling her into your lap. “What’s up?”

“At school?”

You kiss the top of her head. “I want to know everything, Saskia. I don’t care if it’s school or home or the latest news report from Mars.” 

Saskia giggles and a little lightness returns to your chest. 

“Do you have the latest news report from Mars?” Saskia says into you. 

“I do not. I’d have to ask Spence about that one.” 

“I can’t sleep,” she whispers. “I keep seeing him in the lounge and in my room and then he gets to you, and then Auntie Haley, and then Morgan, and then Uncle Dave, and then Spence and Emily fights him but he shoots her, and then Dad puts up a fight because Auntie JJ and Auntie Penny are there and me and Jack are hiding in the closet.” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “And sometimes he finds us and sometimes he doesn’t.”

“He’s not coming back,” you whisper, rocking her. 

“Can you sleep?”

You think about lying to her. But you can’t. “No. Not properly. Not unless there’s someone else here.”

“I couldn’t sleep at Grandad’s. There were too many noises.”

“I’m sorry, Sweetie.”

“Grandad let me sleep with him.” 

You stroke her hair, wishing there was more you could do than just hold her. “We’ll be okay. We’re safe here.”

“But then you leave, and you go to work, and maybe you won’t be okay.”

“Hey,” you say quietly. “Did you hear that ‘maybe’? That maybe is what keeps me coming home to you.”

“Do we have to move again?” Saskia asks, pulling back from your chest. 

“Do you want to?”

She shakes her head. “You always say we should wait three months before we make a decision that could be made on impulse.” 

“Three months?” you smile at her, pushing her hair behind her ears. “We can do that. Do you want me to mark it on the calendar like we used to? Or should it just be if we think about it?”

“Think about it,” Saskia says. “You smell like Dad. And that’s not your shirt. You stayed at Dad’s to make sure he’s okay.”

“We could make a profiler of you yet,” you grin, pinching her cheek. She squirms against it, nose scrunching up, and smiles. “Just no pushing or punching at school, okay? Gotta have that clear track record.”

“Okay.” She kisses both your cheeks. “I promise. Are we having movie night with Jackie and Auntie Haley and Jess?” 

“We are, do you want to pick the movie?”

“Lilo & Stitch. I’m Lilo and you’re Nani and Jackie’s Stitch.”

“Who are Haley and Jess?”

“Haley’s David because she has great hair and Jess owns the store that Lilo gets Stitch from.”

“Maybe don’t tell her that,” you laugh as Saskia launches from your lap and runs to the spare room to get the DVD, trailing the bear behind her. 

Haley pulls you to the floor when you come back in, shoving as many blocks as she can into your hands like it’s an emergency. 

“We’re building the tallest tower we can before Jack turns back into a cat.”

“Understood.”

When Saskia comes in she joins too, properly smiling and laughing as she entices Jack-the-cat away from the tower with a hair ribbon. When it topples, it falls, landing mostly on you and Haley and you wish they’d been foam instead of wooden. 

Jess orders too many boxes of pizzas for the five of you, but none of you really care because it’s movie night and pizzas can be devoured within one movie. Or two, depending on if Haley and Jess stay later. However, you can barely stomach two pieces and you put it down to the high run of emotions after your afternoon.

Saskia and Jack fall asleep on the little 101 Dalmatians fold out foam couch before the film’s over, Jess curled on your lazy boy snoring softly. Haley sticks her legs in your lap, wiggling her toes until you slap your hands over them and turn to her.

“You’re doing a good job with Saskia.”

“You’re doing a good job with Jack. How’re you sleeping?”

She shrugs. “I think about it sometimes. But it’s fine. He deserved it.”

“Hell yeah he deserved it.” You squeeze her toes. “If you can’t sleep you can call me.”

“Like old times?”

“Like old times.”

“Speaking of old times, do you still have that shitty old VCR of Grease that we wrote all over?” Haley makes grabby hands in the air. “I wanna watch it with all it’s faults from all our rewinding and pausing.”

So you untangle yourself, find Grease at the back of a cupboard, and put it on. The two of you watching like you’re teenagers again, with the sound down low so your parents won’t catch you (or kids, in this case). Every now and then you get a little too loud when you’re singing along and Jess grunts at you.

Just like old times indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :') i--i don't know what to say except... I'm no stranger to heartbreak (Thanks, Sandy).


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ I put some sads in here. Sorry. ~

You and Haley wake at opposite ends of the couch, your doona cover draped over both of you. Saskia and Jack are watching early morning kids TV quietly, munching on leftover pizza for breakfast. 

Jess hands you a coffee when she sees you stirring like she's been waiting all morning to do so. Maybe she has. 

"You've got a work review at ten. Strauss called." Jess smiles.

"You talked to the demon queen?" 

Haley laughs quietly, taking her own coffee from Jess. "Does everyone struggle with Strauss?"

"I don't care if she got shot in my lounge room, she's still the evil queen. She probably has a mirror in her room that she consults before she chooses who she likes." 

"MOM!" Saskia screeches and you lean over, ruffling her hair. But at least she's smiling. 

***

"Hey Stranger," Morgan smiles as you leave the review meeting, collapsing into your desk chair. Your desk is still empty, save for a stack of files. 

"I have a bone to pick with you about the life advice that you give to my daughter," you tell him, poking at the air as you spread the files over your desk so you can see them all out before you.

"Oh no," Emily laughs and you know she's glad she's dodged a bullet.

"What did I do?" Morgan squeaks and Spencer starts listing things that you had no idea about and you're not sure you wanted to know.

" 'don't make empty threats'?" You cock your head, blinking at him.

"Good advice?" Morgan defends.

"Not for a CHILD, Morgan." You flip a file open, pull your legs up on your chair and spin around, keeping an eye trained on Morgan. 

"I would have liked that advice as a child,” Morgan defends again.

“Thin ice,” Emily warns, tapping her pen against her bottom lip. You point at her in thank-you.

“You can save that kind of advice until she’s fifteen or something,” you snap your folder shut and pick up the next one, flicking through the pages. Still not exciting enough to start on.

“Fifteen? She needs to learn she’s powerful far before the teenage hormones kick in.”

“Morgan, I swear to god, Saskia knows she’s powerful.” He makes a dramatic ‘harumph’ and slams his back against his chair. “You ‘harumph’ at me and you can deal with her teacher the next time she pushes a kid off the climbing frame.”

“She did what?” Emily laughs, catching herself quickly when you glare at her. “Saskia wouldn’t have done it without good reason.”

“Yeah, but she did it,” you sigh, slamming the file down. “Which is great, and then I flat out asked her teacher what the issue was if he wasn’t hurt. Instead of, I dunno, thinking about how it’s not… great… to push a kid off a climbing frame.” 

“Why’d she do it?” Morgan asks, and suddenly he’s actually trying to help instead of defending himself. “We can talk this out, Reid can probably draw up a profile.”

“I-I’m not drawing up a profile for an adolescent kid,” Spencer says weakly but then he meets Morgan’s eyes and stutters through a “I can do that.”

Prentiss wheels her chair over to your desk, Morgan calling in reinforcements in the shape of JJ and Garcia. You spend probably an hour reciting the previous afternoons events, and however unethical it is Garcia goes through Zack’s parent’s social media (it’s ‘public information’ she keeps reminding you). 

“I think our diagnosis is he’s a little punk,” Emily says, however unhelpfully.

“So’s Saskia by that logic,” you add. 

“Yeah, but she’s our punk,” Garcia smiles, pushing your arm. “This kid’s just a brat.”

It doesn’t matter that Garcia, sunshine and rainbows, has said it. You’re back at the carpark, with Saskia screaming for you, and you can’t help the way your hands shake or the fact that you can’t hear anyone as you push back from your desk, grab your bag and--quite literally--run down the stairs. 

You guess you’re not as good as you told everyone you are as you throw your bag into your car, climb into the driver’s seat, and as cliche as it is, you just cry. You just sit behind the steering wheel and cry like you’ve never cried before. You cry until your chest hurts, and your sleeves are soaked, and you’re desperately trying to fill your lungs with air once more as you press your fingers into the corner of your eyes.

Which is when Dave joins you, climbing into the passenger seat and handing you a box of tissues. You glance at him, wiping your cheeks, and he shakes the box of tissues again. You take one and wipe your face.

“Blow your nose,” Dave says, eyes trained outside. You glare at him but do as you’re told. “The team are worried about you.” 

You roll your eyes, turning your head away so you don’t have to look at him and sink into your seat. 

“I’m fine,” you snivel.

“I can see that.” 

“I should’ve taken a couple more days off, that’s all.” 

“You’re not a bad mother.” Dave’s comment takes you by surprise. You jump slightly, if only because hearing it come from him makes you realise that you’d believed you were. 

“I couldn’t protect her, Dave. Good mothers protect their children.”

“Most mother’s don’t work for the BAU. In fact, right now, no mothers work for the BAU, JJ’s only dipping her toes into that group.” you glance at him, not entirely sure what angle he’s coming from. “You can’t measure your success via other’s successes.”

“I said that to JJ,” you say quietly.

“Do you know who told me?” (you shake your head) “Your mother. Do you know who also thought they were a bad mother?”

“The Virgin Mary,” you mumble but Dave doesn’t smile.

“Your mother.” He reaches over and squeezes your hand. “When she was your age.”

“She was a good mother, she didn’t have anything to worry about.” 

Dave cups your cheek rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. “Everyday she believed she didn’t do enough to protect you. And everyday you were oblivious to just about everything that happened to you, because your mother was a good mother.” 

“I’m not my mother.”

“You’re ten times the woman she was. And she would be proud of you if she saw you right now, if she saw you with Saskia, with the team.”

“Dave, I couldn’t even talk to Saskia. I had to call Haley.”

At this, he laughs. “Do you know how many times your mother called for reinforcements? All the time. Practically every day. It wasn’t because your house was this welcoming, crockpot of people, it was because she always asked for help. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I feel like you just ruined my childhood.”

“Oops.” But he doesn’t look apologetic at all. “The BAU are family, and they’re an extension of your own. You don’t need to hide from them.” 

“I’m not hiding,” you grump.

“So you ran out of the office for fun? Using all those stairs instead of the elevator seems pretty fun, rational, and not like you’re running at all.” (you glare at him, but only because his accusation is true). “You are a good mother. You need to remember that.”

“Thanks Dave.” You rub your forehead when you realise you’re a little mad that he didn’t yell at you, and try not to laugh because you’re sure that’s why Saskia got gloomy yesterday. “Next time can you just yell at me until I get over it?”

He studies you for a second, purses his lips, and shakes his head. “No. You feel more shame this way.” And you hate that he’s right. He turns to the back seat and fishes around until he finds a toy that Saskia’s never going to remember. A tiny plush toy of Eeyore. “Put this on your desk. I know it lacks a personal touch after everything was taken. Plus, Eeyore’s friends always hung out with him no matter how glum he is.”

You smirk, snatching it away from him. “Thank you. Hey, um, Dave? What do you remember about Mom?”

He studies you for a moment. “She loved you fiercely and unapologetically, and she did everything in her power to keep you safe. I know that she would be proud of you every day if she were still with us.”

“That’s... “ and you just nod because he really didn’t answer your question. 

“Before big events she would always wear a pair of butterfly earrings you bought her for mother’s day. They were tacky, and looked like they might fall apart, but she wore them no matter what they looked like with her outfit. She always said it was so she could bring you with her. When you were nine, we were at a marine gala, and one of the butterflies fell off the hook. She made an admiral get down on his hands and knees to search for it. She didn’t believe you’d ever remember those earrings, but they meant something to her. I know you wear the earrings Hotch bought you whenever you’re nervous, because somewhere in you, you remember those earrings.” 

“Thank-you,” you whisper, popping the door handle. “And it was both Hotchner’s, Sean and Aaron worked their asses off to get them for my 21st. And I’ve got no idea where they are after F… after.” 

“We’ll find them.”

You nod and smile at him gratefully. Although you’re not sure you will.

***

You debate knocking on Garcia’s tech room door for three minutes before you actually do it. Before your knuckles can connect twice she’s torn the door open and smashed into you with a bone shaking hug.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think,” she says quickly.

“No, no, no, Garcia, this isn’t your fault, I shouldn’t have run off.” You rub her back because there’s really nothing else to do. “I shouldn’t even really be back at work, let’s be real.”

And Garcia starts rambling about how it’s not your fault, and how she should have thought, and honestly it’s just ten minutes of both of you bouncing ‘no it’s my faults’ back and forth until you both decide to agree to disagree.

“Hotch told me what happened,” Garcia says, squeezing your arms. “I wouldn’t have said it if I knew.” 

“I know, I know,” you repeat as she guides you to a chair. 

You spend forever calming Garcia’s fears, and she calms yours too. And you’ve never been more grateful. 

***

Dave watches you go from his office. When he knows you’re not coming back he marches into the bullpen, a picture of your earring box handed to each person. 

“Nobody leaves until it’s found.” And he leaves no room for anyone to argue with him. 

“Dave, we’re not going to find it,” Hotch says when they’re both in his office. “We’ve looked high and low for the stuff from her desk, whatever Felix did with it, he did it well.” 

“Somebody put her rings in the wheels of those chairs, and whoever did it knew the significance of that box.” 

“Yeah, Felix,” Hotch says in disbelief, flailing his hands out. 

“Felix didn’t leave us clues as to who he was, Hotch.”

“Saskia,” Aaron says softly. 

You’d been careful not to bring Saskia to the office, but the one time you had, Saskia had sat on the floor in front of his desk, shoving her colouring pencils under his drawers and pulling them out until you’d told her to stop. 

He pulls out the drawers, patting around the empty cabinet. Then he pulls the whole thing out, but there’s still nothing. 

“Hotch,” Rossi whispers, pushing the cabinet over. The embroidered box is shoved in the lip of the base, obviously placed with the carelessness of a child. Rossi pops it open, sighing gratefully when he sees the earrings.

He hands the box to Hotch, making sure he hands it to him open side first.

“I know, they’re the earrings Sean and I bought her. She’s always put them in this box, it was the first thing she did when she opened it.”

“They’re her safety blanket, Hotch. Make sure they get back to her.”

***

Baking a cake with Saskia seemed like a good idea to start, but it had quickly divulged into a mess when Saskia had tried to mix the flour and cocoa without the wet ingredients and had showered the two of you in the fine dust.

Remeasuring it had been even more of a nightmare, if only because at some point you’ become incompitent at cooking. But you’d finally gotten the cake into batter, batter into a pan (then out of a pan, when Saskia mentioned that you hadn’t greased the pan), back in the pan, into the oven, all in time for Saskia to flick you with the left over batter. 

Which is when Aaron comes in, straight from work, in his suit (very important suit) and the batter misses you and hits him straight in the chest. Both you and Saskia are caught, dumb struck, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t crack, he just stands there and stares, face blank and then--

“That was a good shot,” he keeps his straight-faced-boss-face on. “Could make an agent of you yet.”

“Do you want a spoon?” Saskia asks. “First person to cry loses. There are no winners.” She grabs a spoon, scoops up batter, and holds it out to him. 

“Sweetie, Aaron’s still in his suit. He shouldn’t get it dirty.” 

Boy does Aaron take that personally. He pulls his tie off, shimmies out of his jacket, and throws the them over the back of your sofa, and then takes the spoon from your daughter. 

“When does it start?” 

Saskia grins, a little playful thing that’s all trouble. “It already has.”

Which is how Saskia ends up sucking cake batter off her shirt while you’re trying to wipe her down, and Aaron sifting through your cupboard trying to find something to change into, and you’re practically coated in the batter. 

“Go have a shower, Sweets,” you smile once you’ve gotten most of it off her shirt. “Then your clothes need to go straight to the laundry so I can soak them, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, and then she’s skipping off to her room as Aaron comes out wearing the shirt you never returned to him.

“Do you want me to wash your shirt when I put Saskia’s stuff in?”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, Aaron,” and he smiles at you, throwing his shirt into the laundry. “What do we owe the pleasure of this visit to?”

“Found this in my office, thought you might want it back.” And he pulls out the little box from his pocket, sliding it across the counter to you. 

“Mom’s box,” you breathe, picking it up and holding it to your chest before opening it. “The earrings are still in it.”

“Dave said you found them important.”

“Yeah. You and Sean bought them for me, of course they’re important.” 

Aaron looks at you like you’ve just told him you’re his whole world. Maybe you did. Everything’s right in the world for that one moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ oop this got a lil longer than usual because i needed some happy ~


	6. Chapter 6

“Did I ever tell you how Sean and I got those earrings?” Aaron says. He’s lying with his head over your stomach, stroking your thighs lightly. You look up from your pillows, hands finding his hair to stroke it, and fall back into your pillows.

“No.”

“There was an afternoon when we’d come over ‘cause your dad said he’d watch Sean. Sean found the box in your room and he was glued to it. He found these shiny pieces of gravel and he’d fill it with gravel then pour it out on the coffee table just to do it again.”

You laugh, just a little, because if there’s anything your father hated more than a mess it was a mess that could do damage to his shiny surfaces.

“You were in one of your moments, I think you were painting something and refusing to come out from the backyard until it was done. I don’t remember what it was.”

“When?” you scratch at his hair and he leans into it.

“Just after your twentieth. You were studying at the academy, I was at law school and working three jobs. Felix…”

“Used to make moonshine in his basement and Haley would drink it like water. I remember. I was painting Haley as Persephone. It’s still in the attic.”

“You’re weird,” Aaron grins and you push his hair back, then soothe it down. “Your dad told Sean all about your Mom, I think I was late to work that day. He just kept talking like he’d never had anyone to talk to. When we were going home, after stroganoff dinner, Sean saw those earrings in a pawnshop. He wanted you to have something to put in the box.”

He sighs and runs the back of his nails down your legs. “I couldn’t afford them. Neither could Sean, duh, he was a kid. But everyday on the way home we passed that pawnshop and they were still there. Felix and Haley had already halved on those paints you wanted. One day your dad saw us looking and he made a deal that we could pay him back before your 21st. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what Sean could do to pay his way through, but your dad would just… teach him to cook. Say it was payment enough.”

“That’s really cute,” you whisper. “I just know my Hotchner boys were very proud of themselves when I opened my present.”

“Are we ever going to stop being your boys?”

You hum, faking a thought about it, then say; “nope.”

“It never even occurred to be that you’d had a mom until your dad talked about her. You never mentioned her.”

“She died when I was a little older than Saskia,” you say quietly. “I never really thought about mentioning her, Aaron. We didn’t exactly talk until you were properly dating Haley.”

“Nuh uh,” he says, shaking his head and leaning up so his chin is on your stomach. “You didn’t talk to me until the day before I snuck in through your bathroom window and broke my leg. You told me not to be Danny Zuko.”

“And then I told you that you were closer to Sandra Dee and you had to step up if you wanted to get with Haley and you didn’t get it. I thought you were a lost cause.”

“Look at me now,” he says proudly. 

“Still a lost cause,” you tease. He makes a little whining noise and you rub your thumb over his cheek. “My favourite lost cause.” He makes puppy dog eyes at you and you push his hair off his face. “You’re doing alright. I like you a lot.”

“I like you too.” He wraps his arms under your torso and smiles at you. “And I know I never got to meet her, but if you ever want to talk about your mom, I’m here to listen.”

“There’s not much to say other than she worked for the CIA,” you pull a face to make it seem like you’re joking and Aaron chuckles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ is momma a little bit bi? maybe so... maybe so... ~  
> ! only short but i'm excited. !  
> edit:  
> Me: posts this chapter  
> Me, the next morning: okay how do i delete this.


	7. Chapter 7

“Hey, Aar?” you call as he climbs out the shower. You move a bunch of files from Reno around on your bed and you’re pretty sure you can hear him roll his eyes. 

“What’s up?” he pops the door open. You smile at the sight of him with your towel wrapped around his waist, watching him as he goes through your bathroom cupboards trying to figure out what he can use. 

“When was the last time you saw Jack?” 

“Uhhhh, pancakes.” The way he says it so nonchalantly makes your heart break just a little. 

“Aaron that was almost a month ago.”

He looks at you in the mirror and he nods and you’re sure he looks hurt. But it’s gone when he blinks. Saskia runs down the corridor, stomping far too loudly, muttering about a book she’s left somewhere. Both you and Aaron smirk, but it’s gone almost as soon as it arrived.

“You should talk to Haley,” you offer, grabbing another file. They’ve got a collection of surveillance photos but something’s off about them. “I think Saskia and I have seen Jack more than you have.”

“Haley’s your best friend.”

“She chose to marry you.”

“She also chose to divorce me.” 

You look up and glare at him and he glares at you back. That’s about as far as your arguments got these days.

“Look, I know you and Haley never really fought,” (he makes a face and you hold a finger up so he won’t interrupt you) “she could give you the silent treatment, sure, and probably a cold shoulder or two, but you didn’t have to play highschool with her. All she wants is to talk, and be told she’s right more than she’s wrong.”

“I don’t need you fixing my broken marriage,” he says.

“Mm-mm, I’m not,” you respond, wagging your finger at him. “I’m telling you if you want to see Jack more you need to talk to Haley.”

“Can we not talk about Haley right now?” he says quietly, almost like a child. You nod, spreading the photos over your bed. Maybe it’s the way they’re framed. Too low an angle for a car, a weird angle if it was taken standing. 

Aaron sits behind you when he’s dressed, pressing his nose into your neck. He pretty much always does it when he’s upset, probably because it’s the only way you can’t see his face, and he wraps his arms around your waist. 

“I’ll talk to Haley,” he says quietly into your neck. 

“I’m not saying it to be mean,” you respond, reaching back and squeezing his knee. Then you sweep the files up, stacking them back in the folders. “I just don’t want you to see Saskia more than you see Jack. There’s way too much to miss at this age.” 

“Okay.” He puts his chin on your shoulder, leaning his head against yours. “Why’s Strauss got you looking at old cases?”

“Hm?” you shuffle the files around and rest your head on top of his. “I look at what I’m given.” You’re putting the files away because they’re not from Strauss and, legally, you can’t tell him where they’re really from, but then-- “How old?”

He points at the third one in the stack. “I worked that one when I was in the DC office.”

“Ancient then,” you tease. The photos are too new, too clear, to be that old. You make the note in the back of your mind and shove them into your shoulder bag. “I’m gonna take a couple of days, spend time with Saskia. Not have a breakdown in front of the team.” 

“You’re sure?”

“Uh huh.” 

He smiles and kisses your temple slowly. “I have to go home and get a new tie.” You smile, kissing his cheek. 

“Have fun.”

***

Saskia’s engrossed in ‘drawn to life’ and she’s been stuck on the same level for hours so she’s not moving any time soon, so you’ve locked yourself up in your office. You’ve pulled out the file Aaron pointed out, pinning it to your wall. You’ve emailed the DC office for the files (Aaron left a note on your bench before he left with the case number, however he remembered it you don’t know) but the pictures aren’t that old.

There’s mobile phones in the picture, for one, and the cars are too modern for another. You print the file off when they email it to you, pinning the photographs next to the ones from Reno’s files. 

The angles are different, but it’s the same photographs. The same locations, the same subject. Maybe. You fish around your drawer and pull out your magnifying glass, using it for probably the first time ever. 

It’s not the same person, but it’s close to it. It’s like when you look at the pictures of you that your dad has hanging around the house, when you were really young, and try to figure out where he got that picture of Saskia from. You flick through the files, looking for the report.

The case was closed mid 90’s, suspected hitman took her out. They found the guy who hired the hitman, and you guess they thought that was enough. It probably was. The Victim’s name was Jane Hyland, no spouse, no mention of children. Her body was released to a family member early, by accident, and she was cremated so there was no M.E. report (frustrating, but not unusual, which is the worst part). You pour through her file, but there really is nothing.

Nothing except the first officer on the scene. Aiden Harden. There’s no harm in calling him, enquiring about Jane or the day or the case file. So you do. Against everything, you dial Harden’s number.

“What’s this for?” he asks without greeting you. “I thought we didn’t do social calls anymore.”

“Not a social call. What do you remember about your days as a street cop?”

“Thinking about knocking yourself down a few more pegs? ‘Cause I can’t imagine you waiting for traffic violations anymore. You might actually start a crime to have a good time.”

“Harden, I’m serious.”

“So am I!” You’re sure he pulls a face because you can hear his team laughing. He doesn’t have that loud speaker voice on.

What the hell. Can’t hurt to go all in.

“Jane Hyland,” you tell him flat out. You’ve never heard him so silent, it’s like the world snaps shut for a moment. 

“Where are you?”

“My house?” 

“I’ll meet you at the coffee shop near hq,” he says and you think he’s grabbing something. “Your coffee shop. Not mine.”

“I have Saskia with me.”

“Bring headphones?”

***

You’ve only ever seen Harden paranoid once. After all, this is the guy who went to Vegas and almost blew your case. But today was definitely a paranoid day. He brings a coffee out to you, and a muffin for Saskia, and then tells you to walk with him. 

“Why’re you asking about Jane?” he says, looking around like you’re being followed.

“I was just looking over some cases,” you lie, and it’s a good lie, but Harden raises an eyebrow.

“Sure, babe, Jane isn’t an FBI case and she literally never will be. You’re the third person to ask about Jane in the last fortnight.” He sips at his coffee as you walk into a park, Harden ruffling Saskia’s hair. “Wanna go play on the park while I talk to your mom?”

“Not really,” Saskia says, but she catches your eye and shrugs. “I guess.” And then she’s running to the monkey bars.

“Jane Hyland was a good woman who got in with the wrong people,” Aiden says like he knew her. “She didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

“That’s never mentioned in her file.”

“It wouldn’t. They were more focussed on the hitman.” He takes a seat, patting the bench next to him. “Who got you onto her case? Hotchner?” (you shake your head). “Your dad? Reno?”

It’s involuntary that your head snaps to him, and he notices immediately.

“Reno? God, don’t tell her anything. Please. She’s good but she’s not that good.”

“What’s my dad got to do with it?”

“He was ME on Jane’s case,” Harden says plainly. “You should’ve known if you’ve looked at her case files.”

“Are you sure?

“Positive. You should talk to him. He’d tell you everything you need to know about Reno, too, she was his protegee for a bit I swear.”

***

You invite yourself over for dinner at your dad’s place (he doesn’t care, he likes having Saskia in the house). When you’re cleaning up you finally get enough courage to ask him.

“Dad? Did you work the Jane Hyland case?”

He almost drops the glass he’s holding. “Why?”

“Aiden Harden said you did.”

“I don’t ever want that name spoken in my house ever again.”

“Jane or Aiden?”

He glares at you. “Is something wrong with Jane?”

“Dad, she’s dead.”

He hums, placing his glass in the washing up water. “So why are you asking about her?”

“Why did you ask if there’s something wrong with her?” (he blinks slowly at you). “She’s not dead, is she?” (he shakes his head). “Why doesn’t Aiden want me to tell Reno?”

And, god, that look on his face doesn’t tell you anything. But it also tells you everything. Whatever happened, you’re REALLY not going to tell Reno about it. Because you think Aiden and your dad might kill you.

“Your mother… she did a lot to keep Jane safe.”

And that doesn’t add up.

Because your mom had been long dead by the time Jane "died".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, look, this plot is. Very inspired by Hawaii 5-0 (my favourite episode, but i'm not about to tell y'all what it is and spoil the ending).


	8. Chapter 8

Your dad makes tea and Saskia goes to sleep in her old room. (Well, the study, it was always the study). He just keeps stuttering and looking at you, then his tea, and then at the clock. 

"What do you mean Mom did a lot to help Jane?" 

And his breath becomes so… well, scared. If you’re being honest, you thought he’d lost the ability to be scared a long time ago. T’was the curse of being a marine. But how very wrong you were. He skirts around it for a while, making the face he always makes when he’s substituting one scenario for another, and then says:

“Do you remember when Mom used to take you places while I was deployed? You would go on little secret holidays you weren’t allowed to tell anyone about, in little villages?” (You shake your head, but you do remember, just a little bit. There was a lady that used to give you milkshakes on her front porch). “There was Mrs. Smith, and Mrs. Robinson--not their real names, I’m sure--Mrs. Smith was deep in Wyoming. Mrs. Robinson, she lived in Hawaii, she was your favourite to visit.”

That, you remember. She lived far away, you used to take the longest flight of your life from whatever base your family had been thrown into, and then you’d go hiking. Three days (although, as you got older the trip was shorter) and you’d sleep wherever you could find, then you’d come out of the trees into an old summer camp. The cabins were some of your happiest memories, Mrs. Robinson among them.

“I remember. She was kind. She used to make little wooden animals, I had them all over my room until Mom died.” 

He nods slowly. “You used to write stories all the time about little hidden communities of people who survived horrendous events in their lives.” (And you did, however shit they were, until your Mom told you to never do it again). “They’re not stories, Sweet, you were writing about your friends.” 

“Mom used to visit them?”

“She used to protect them. There were twelve of them, one for each month of the year, although they were rarely there every month of the year. Most of the people there can protect themselves, they’re good at that. Then one year, the CIA picked up on it, they recruited your mother, trying to get to the little communities. She did it, for five years, she fed them false information over and over again.” He gets sad, you can see it in the way his shoulders stoop and how he runs his finger over the rim of his tea cup. 

“You never came with us when we visited them,” you point out and he chuckles. There’s a little light that fills his eyes.

“No, your mother wouldn’t let me. Strong willed, she was. She instilled that in you.” He boops your nose like you’re still five. “I was a marine, there was no way I could keep secrets like that from my superiors, so she refused to tell me. There were a couple other marine wives in on it, it was all a little bit of fun. Well, not fun, but… They found a sense of purpose.”

“Agent Reno gave me Jane Hyland’s file. Amongst others. Well, not Jane’s, maybe her daughter’s. The photographs are new, I was looking at them today and I’m sure it’s her child. But they’re trying very hard to look like surveillance photos of Jane Hyland.” 

He takes your hands in his, squeezing them urgently. “Don’t ever tell her the truth. These people, they don’t deserve anything that happened to them. They’re all--”

“Good people who got into bad scenarios, I know.” You smile at him and he nods.

“If I still had your mothers journals I would give them to you. She had all the stories she would tell the CIA, keeping all her stories straight. I never even imagined you would somehow follow in her path. Against everything I tried to do to keep you away from it.” And despite his words, he looks proud of you. 

“Is Mom actually dead?” you ask at long last. “It’s just that, F… him, he kind of made me not trust death.”

“I haven’t heard from her since the late 80’s, so… I’d say so. Sorry Pumpkin.”

You nod, tears stinging your eyes, but it’s fine. It’s fine. (It’s fine, and you might have actually said that one aloud.)

“I’ll see if I can get a couple of her friends to talk to you. In the meantime, take that CIA paycheck and keep fuckin’ with them.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear, Dad.”

And he shrugs. But he’s still proud of you.

***

Weeks pass. You’ve strung Reno along, watched Jane Hyland’s daughter from afar. She’s barely older than Spencer, probably closer to Sean’s age. One morning before work she comes into the coffee shop while you’re getting coffee with Garcia. She smiles at you, and you smile back. There’s a silent acknowledgement between you both, that you knew each other in some other life.

Romanticised? maybe. True? Also maybe.

Aaron catches you after work in the carpark (literally, he grabs your waist when you’re heading to your car and you can’t help but giggle), kissing your neck behind your ear. 

“Do you want the bad news that you think’ll be good news?” he says as he falls into step beside you. You look across at him and nod. “Haley wants us to have dinner with her and her new boyfriend.”

“Ooooo,” you tease (even though Haley’s not here to tease). “The bad news?”

“Haley wants us to have dinner with her and her new boyfriend,” Aaron repeats. He stops as you get to your car, leaning up against the back door as you rummage through your bag for your keys. 

“When?”

“Tonight?” he looks at you so softly and you so want to kiss him. But Strauss is walking passed and you both hang your heads like you’re teenagers getting caught by your parents.

“When tonight?”

Aaron shrugs. “Eight?”

“I’m only going if you pick me up,” you chirp, bouncing on your toes. He blows out air dramatically and nods.

“I guess, yeah,” he rubs his eyebrow and turns his back as Strauss watches both of you. “If Mom lets me use the car.”

You poke your tongue out at him and grin. “Just pick me up, Hotchner.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” he says smugly.

***

“Hey,” Haley smiles as you both come into the (far too classy) restaurant. You put on your best smile and hug her while Aaron shoves his hands into his pockets. You’re surprised he’s not swaying like a kid forced to hang out with his cousin.

“You look great,” you tell her as you pull away. She brushes you away and you turn to her companion. “I’m Y/N.”

“Joshua,” he says. He hesitates to shake your hand, and when he does it’s far from firm. You have to fight against profiling him, but you can’t help noticing that his watch is fake, and his shoes aren’t exactly top end.

“Aaron,” Aaron says when Joshua shakes your hand a little too long. 

You and Haley share an awkward look, if only because it’s far too awkward. The boys both stare down each other until you and Haley separate them, sitting at either side of the table. 

“I don’t like him,” Aaron murmurs as he pulls out your chair. 

“You don’t have a choice,” you say through gritted teeth, forcing a smile so Joshua and Haley can’t tell. “How’d you two meet?” you ask, keeping an eye on Aaron as he sits. 

“Jess,” Haley says quickly.

Which pretty much paints the entire night of awkward conversations. Joshua seems nice enough, but he’s boring. So boring. You’ve kept yourself entertained by fiddling with the tablecloth and hitting Aaron’s knee with yours whenever he gets too snarky. The conversation of Jack is kind of skirted around, although you do note that Joshua stumbles over Jack’s name a couple of times and really can’t tell you anything about him.

Which makes you raise an eyebrow at Haley. Who raises it right back at you. God, it’s awkward, and at least Haley seems to find it just as awkward as you do. 

When dinner finishes Joshua offers to buy dessert. There’s no way with his outfit that he could even afford dessert (judgemental? Yes. Worth it? Absolutely.)

“I could really go for ice cream?” you offer. “There’s an all night diner like ten minutes from here, it’s got the best ice cream.” 

Aaron looks at you like you’ve spurted blasphemy and you squeeze his hand under the table.

“Yeah, sounds great,’ Joshua says and Haley nods, standing. 

“I’ll meet you out there in a second,” you tell her with the politest smile possible. You watch her go, enough space between her and Joshua for the holy spirit (you swear) and then, and only then, do you turn to Aaron. “Be nice.”

“I am!” he squeaks. You poke his ribs and kiss his cheek.

“He knows nothing about Jack, you’re still in the safe zone. In fact, he couldn’t know less about Jack.” You pat his cheek as you push your chair back. “I could really go for an ice-cream right now, and I want you to play happy families for half a second so I don’t have to think about how much I really, really, hate Joshua.”

Boy, does that make Aaron smug.

“Ice-cream?” he asks, looping his arm around you waist as you lace between the tables to where Haley and Joshua are talking like they only met last week. Maybe they had.

“Mhmmmm, ice-cream.” You give him a quick kiss before coming out onto the street. You point in the direction of diner because, god, it’s awkward, and set out walking to it, heels clicking as Aaron falls into step beside you. 

“I hate him,” Aaron says, pulling a face at you. You shoulder him, sending him stumbling along the pavement and almost (almost) into the building beside you.

Behind you you’re pretty sure you hear Joshua say something snarky about Aaron but you can’t even find it in yourself to care because Haley actually tells him off. Which makes you smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmmmmm awkward double dates can be awkwardddddddd  
> ~~I have an essay to complete in the next 24hrs so the next chapter may take a little longer to get up~~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ bitches, I'm bringing up Doctor Who in a Criminal Minds fanfic. Thanks, and good night ~

"So where do you work then, Joshua?" You ask. You've split a banana split with Aaron (only because he's obsessed with glazed cherries and fake whipped cream) and he's watching Joshua far too intently. 

"I'm assistant manager at a technology store," he responds far from confidently. Okay, so he might be a dork, but you can see why Haley picked him. He’s… how would your father say it? Aaron, with all the bits that makes Aaron-Aaron taken out.

“Nice,” you manage because that’s really all you can say. One would have thought that small talk would have run out by the time you’re at dessert, but apparently not. So you go for Saskia’s favourite topic of conversation at the moment. “Do you watch Doctor Who?”

“I’m not really into the new stuff,” Joshua says. “Tom Baker was my favourite.”

You scrunch up your face, if only because you hadn’t really watched those when you were younger. Too busy walking to secret civilisations, apparently.

“I liked the Christmas Special. Donna seems pretty cool.” You carve off a piece of banana and wrestle with the ice cream until you’ve got enough on your spoon.

“Of course you’d like Donna, she’s a pencil pusher who marries above herself.”

You don’t choke on your food. Years of training has you trained enough not to respond. And Aaron’s oblivious, thank god, but he’s picked up on something that’s made him tense. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Haley says before you can. “She’s not a pencil pusher.”

“I definitely marry above myself, though,” you tag on the end to take the edge off. “Homicidal killer is way cooler than me. Also, it’s not all that… I mean, they did have my wedding reception without me.” Which is true.

“Shit, they did didn’t they,” Haley laughs. Although it’s not a real laugh, it’s far too strained. “That was an interesting day.”

“That day was a nightmare. And, Joshua, for the record, Donna is fucking amazing and wouldn’t give you the time of day.” You aim the last bit at Haley, and you know she’s picked up on it because she scoots a little further away from Joshua.

Aaron squeezes your thigh, leaning into your ear as he canvases the carpark outside like he’s trying to find an unsub. “What happened to be nice?” he whispers.

You shrug. “Listen, it was nice meeting you Joshua, but I’ve got an early morning and Aaron’s got the car, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave.”

Aaron shoves the rest of the banana split into his mouth, smiling through tight lips as he stands and practically races out to the car. You refrain from rolling your eyes, because that would make Joshua happy, and slide out of your seat, reaching over and squeezing Haley’s hand.

“See you this weekend, boss permitting?” you smile.

Haley glances out at Aaron who’s comfortably seated in the driver’s seat. “Yeah, boss permitting.” God, is Haley precious. 

When you climb into the passenger seat Aaron looks at you, head cocked curiously. “I didn’t know you watch Doctor Who.”

“It’s all Saskia talks about,” you say playfully, waving at him to start the car. “We have to go before Joshua gets the satisfaction of… I dunno, whatever he finds satisfying.”

“He’s a bit of a tosser,” Aaron says lowly as you pull out. 

“A bit? He’s a whole garbage can, Aaron.” 

And he laughs. Just quickly. And everything’s right in the world.

***

“Spence is inside,” you say as Aaron pulls into your driveway and he points curiously to the car behind yours. “Dad’s somewhere talking to friends about something,” (which is, honestly, all you know because he doesn’t trust you. Okay, maybe he does.) “Spence was the only person left to watch Saskia.”

“You think they’re asleep?” 

You glance at the clock. It’s passed midnight. “Maybe. Saskia should be, and if she’s not she saw the lights so she’s probably running for her bed.”

“Give her another minute?” Aaron whispers, leaning back in his seat and turning to you.

“Yeah,” you smile, leaning over the console and kissing his cheek. He moans playfully in protest turning to catch your lips, cupping your cheek to pull you closer to him. He’s far too precious and cute.

You pull back for air, resting your forehead on his. “That dinner sucked.”

“Mhmm.”

“You okay driving home?” You stroke his cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“I’m okay.” 

You kiss him quickly then grab your purse. “You sure, cause I’ve got a spare spot in my bed.”

“Spencer’s inside.”

“I guess,” you pout, popping the door open. “G’night, Aaron.”

“Goodnight,” he says back a little reluctantly. 

You wave at him as he pulls out of the driveway, and he might have waved back but you can’t see. The house is dark, soft snoring coming from your office where Spencer’s put himself on the day bed. Saskia’s hanging mostly out her bed when you push her door open, so you ease her back into bed with a soft kiss to her forehead. 

You prop the study door open too, just to check on Spence, who’s buried under a mountain of blankets with a case file open on his chest. You pick the file up, closing it, and placing it on your desk. Spencer stirs, but doesn’t wake, and you smile at him as you leave.

Spence’s left a glass of water and a packet of aspirin beside your bed, bless him, and a note that he and Saskia had pizza and there’s leftovers in the fridge. You’re tempted not to change into your pj’s when you sit on the edge of your bed, but the idea of explaining that in the morning to Saskia and Spencer seemed like a nightmare.

So you change into your pj’s, nestle into your bed, and pull your phone out of your bag.

Text to: Aaaaaaronnnnnnn  
Night x

Moments later:  
Night x

And you fall asleep with a smile on your face like a dork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: don't make Spence like the reader's son  
> also me: Spence Spence SPence Spence is baby boy


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute Mom&Dad time ensues, and I mention Doctor Who once more.

"You let Reid stay at your place?" Morgan says incredulously as you both meet at the coffee machine. You're sure he's actually hurt you didn't ask him to watch Saskia behind that tough guy exterior. 

"Morgan, you're all invited to stay at my place whenever you want. It's just that Reid didn't have anything on and he offered to watch Saskia." You click your fingers for his cup and pour him coffee when he slides it over the bench to you. "If you want an excuse to eat pizza and sleep on a day bed, Saskia's got a Diagnosis: Murder marathon on Sunday afternoon."

And he might scoff, but he looks like he'll take you up on it. Saskia wouldn't mind the company. And Morgan might even have some fun.

It's the most relaxed day at work you've had on your life. It seems to drag on for ages, but by lunch time everyone's pretty much caught up on their paperwork. Everyone but Morgan, who gets cocky about finishing and Aaron drops another stack on his desk. 

You even get to leave early--early enough to pick Saskia up from school who is estatic. She practically bounds into your arms, and all the gym mornings with Morgan and Prentiss pay off because you don't drop her. 

The afternoon's spent doing Saskia's homework at a roadside diner half way to DC because Emily's there too. Emily's cut her red hair so it's no longer long enough to braid, but she insists you do anyway (and you can't argue with that). 

Aaron calls at 6, as you're pulling into the car port, and asks if you want him to bring dinner over. There's a lace of something more sinister) and fun in his tone and you can't turn it down. So he turns up half an hour later, armed with a chicken and pasta bake that Saskia looks like she would die for. 

"Mom says you watch Doctor Who," Aaron says during dinner and Saskia perks up immediately, nodding her head excitedly. "Who's your favourite companion?" 

"Martha! She got to meet Shakespeare. How cool would that be?" And Saskia launches into a long and lengthy explanation of how much she loves Martha even though she has a larger-than-life poster of Rose behind her door. 

Then she gets distracted talking about The Sarah-Jane Adventures and how it's her 'most favourite' because Luke is just Spencer. (Distracted again because she's trying to figure out if Spencer was made in a lab and if he had a belly button, to which Aaron assures her he does). 

When she's finally in bed and asleep you think Aaron's head might explode with all the new information. 

"Who would have known that aliens could be defeated with vinegary household products," Aaron chuckles as he pushes your bedroom door closed. 

You launch onto your bed, sitting cross legged against your pillows. "Only Slitheens, who wear human skins as costumes," you correct, wagging your finger at him. "And you can find them because they fart excessively." 

"I'll remember that next time I have a meeting with Strauss," he says as he crawls onto your bed, pressing your noses together. "I'll fill a spray bottle with vinegar and spray it at her for good measure." 

"If you forget I'm sure you could get enough vinegar from JJ's pickle reserves." You fist your hands against his shirt, pulling him to you. 

"That'll be fun to explain," he says as he drops a light kiss to your lips. 

"You have to say it all seriously." You return the kiss, deepening it. He makes a tiny little moaning noise as you part your lips, cradling the back of his head. 

"JJ, I need to commission that pickle jar. It's a matter of national security." His voice is low, rumbling against you, and you'll be damned but you're suddenly beyond horny. A pickle jar of national security and you want Aaron to fuck you senseless. 

What a world you live in. 

"How quiet can you be?" You whisper into his lips, hooking your fingers in his waist band. 

"How quiet can you be?" He whispers back accusingly as he pushes you into the pillows. 

"Aaron Hotchner, I'll have you know that I've had years of training." You nip at his bottom lip. "I'm more worried about you." 

"We won't wake Saskia." He nudges your cheek then kisses you, easing you both down into the pillows as he paws at your clothes. He pulls your shirt up over your head, kissing over your breasts like he hasn't eaten in months. 

He sucks at the soft tissue as he fumbles with your bra, trying to pull it off. When he does, it gets discarded somewhere in the ether of your room. He presses his hand to your chest when you try to move, pinning you to the bed and you don't really mind because Aaron's kissing your body like you're the most important person in the world. 

His fingers traces down your stomach, pawing at your core over your underwear. "You're so wet," he murmurs like he's surprised. You're not entirely sure why. But the way he works double time to make you feel line a literal goddess makes your heart race.

The sex is slow, quiet, heartfelt, Aaron whimpering into your neck as he tries to keep quiet. He's not as good at keeping quiet as he thought, but he's too precious to care as you wrap your legs around his and change angle slightly and Aaron almost loses his composure entirely. 

"You're too good to me," you whisper as he sucks at your neck, his hands coming down between the two of you and circling your clit. 

"Just think how I feel," he grunts into your ear. And you can't help the little giggle that escapes you. 

When he cums it's quiet and soft, and into your neck. And despite telling him that you had years of practice being quiet, you have a hard time silencing yourself when you follow, fingers curling against his back. 

He pulls out of you when he regains himself, breathing heavily into your neck. 

"I don't deserve you," he mumbles. 

"Me either," you smile, running your hands through his hair. "Next time, you should boss me around a bit with that serious voice you use with the team." 

"Yeah?" He says with a quiet squeak to his voice. Then he looks at you like he's playfully ashamed in you. "That whole thing was about a pickle jar of national security?" 

"Mhmm, imagine what could happen with a real order." 

And gosh, he blushes, and you fall in love with him all over again. 

"Hey," he says quietly, cupping your cheek as he leans up and over you. "You've been alright, right? I've worried about you these past couple of weeks." You nod, but he doesn't believe it. Fucking profilers. 

"Dad told me some stuff about Mom, that's all." (It's not all, you know it's not all, dragging Reno along has been fun, sure, but it's not been as fun as it could be if you could share it with Aaron).

"If you want to talk, I'm here, you know that, right?" He whispers. 

"If I could, I would, Aaron." 

And he gives you a tiny, tiny smile. "Shower?" 

"Only if you warm it up." 

***

Aaron's snuggled up against you, hands wrapped around your stomach, legs tangled in yours, face pressed against your shoulder, when your phone rings. 

He barely stirs when you grab for it, answering still thick with sleep. 

"It's Melissa," the voice says. "Your dad gave me your number." 

"Melissa?" You respond, trying to recall a Melissa that you'd know.

"Hyland. I'm Jane's daughter."

Oh. "Give me a second." You untangle yourself, despite Aaron protesting as you sit up.

"Where're y'u going?" He says, thick with sleep.

"I'll be back," you reassure him. "Love you."

"Love you too," he mumbles but he's mostly asleep as you pull the door shut and pad into your office. 

"Sorry about that, Melissa. What can I do for you?" 

"I have some stuff for you, mom said to pass it on."

"You could've called in the morning." You try to keep your voice calm if only so you don't scare her off. 

"I think someone's following me," Melissa says and there isn't one hint of paranoia in her voice. She calm, methodical, knows what she's talking about. "I have a friend, he's sending you Mom's files in the morning with a couple of other profiles he wants you to look over. Then I'm heading to Mexico."

"If someone's following you, going to Mexico won't get rid of them," you say back as you listen to the floor creak in the hallway. Aaron's awake. 

"It'll make it easier to kill them, though," she says and you hope she's joking. "If you want to contact me, I'll have a number through Agent Franks. NCIS."

"I know him," you say and only because your dad sucks up to all law agencies because he's one of the best retired medical examiner this side of the country. Mike retired forever ago, but he did questionable… questionable good things. Like your mother, really.

"Good," Melissa says and you're sure she nods. "I'm sorry I called you this late." 

"Don't sweat it," you respond as Aaron knocks lightly at the door. "Stay safe." 

"I will." And the call disconnects. 

"Everything okay?" Aaron murmurs, pushing the door open. You nod, breathing shakily.

"Work," you say, even though you desperately want to tell him there's a kid Sean's age who's running for her life and it might be the woman who hired you for the CIA. 

"I'm the one who gets work calls," Aaron says quietly, playfully, but there's hurt in those words. More than you could ever imagine, and you can't quite place where it's coming from.

"Sometimes they like to call me," you tease, tossing your phone onto your office table. "When was the last time you talked to Sean?"

"Easter." 

That long?

"Is he doing okay?" (Aaron nods) (you nod back). "Do you want to go back to bed?" 

Aaron smirks at you, then offers a hand, hauling you to your feet. 

"You'd tell me if something was wrong?" He whispers as he pulls you to his chest.

"Of course," you tell him, knowing full well that in your current predicament (and evidentally, the one your parents had been in) if something was about to happen you couldn't tell him the half of it, even if you wanted to.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serious conversations being had below.

It's not supposed to be an internal debate, but it is, because you can't sleep knowing Aaron is so close and you can't tell him anything that's going on. 

And apparently, from all the tossing and turning, neither can Aaron. 

"Hey," you whisper at his last turn. He starts (maybe he was asleep) and you take his hands in yours. 

"Hey?" he says groggily. 

"I love you, and I would never keep things from you." A pause, as you try to figure out what you can and can't say. You end up with a ramble of muttered words and the only thing coherant you say is: "sometimes I just have to Jack Ryan my way out of things."

He wakes up a little more after that, eyes narrowing intently. He understands, maybe more than you expected from him.

"For how long?"

"Couple of months?" 

He kisses your knuckles and yawns. "Consider me your Cathy." 

Honestly that's the sweetest thing you've ever heard him say. Then he pulls you into his chest and you sleep like the conversation cleared the awkward air between you, despite it still weighing heavily on your own mind. 

***  
The files come and go, hints at locations of the self-run witness protection camps. You shred everything before you go home because that seems like the right thing to do. 

It's probably good that you do because you're coming back to your desk as JJ's apologising because there's a case that can't wait until morning. And Reno's sending you 'important email: cannot wait until morning' over and over again. She can wait until morning. (You make that decision after opening one and it's really not urgent).

Aaron agrees to leaving in the morning after JJ finishes explaining the case. You make the mistake of answering a couple of Reno's emails and suddenly it's three in the morning and Aaron's squeezing your shoulder. 

"Have you slept?" He whispers and you shake your head.

Somehow (you blame Aaron entirely) you end up on his office couch, Aaron's jacket over your shoulders because he's "only going to be a minute" but you wake an hour later as he nestles against you, pulling a thin blanket over the both of you. You hook your arm over his waist as he tries not to fall off the couch. 

You don't argue that you could've gone to either of your houses because he's warm, comfortable, and your face fits perfectly between his shoulder blades, and you're asleep just as quick as you woke. 

***

There's an unsub leaving couples in cars and waiting for them to be hit by trucks, and of all the conversations Aaron wishes to have post-leaving-the-police-station, it's this one. 

"Would you have another kid?" He asks as he dips his teabag in his cup. You glance at him, running your hand through your hair and snapping the case file shut. 

"Not right now?" 

He smiles softly at you, climbing into the bed and sitting in front of you. 

"Aaron, neither of us are in the position to have a kid," (he opens his mouth and you press a finger to his lips because you know he's about to say something vulgar) "I like my job as is, and I barely see Saskia, you barely see Jack, and my dad isn't exactly fit to be looking after a helpless child if a case comes up. Saskia runs circles around him as is."

"Tha's no wha' I mean'," he says into your fingers as he kisses it lightly. He places his cupped hands around his mug in your lap. "Perfect, hypothetical world." 

You think about this perfect, hypothetical world. And, sure, you'd have another kid. Saskia's never straight-up asked for a sibling, but she adores Jack, and she's always been patient with little kids. Except babies, she's terrified of those. 

"Maybe," you say, rubbing his hands. "Perfect, hypothetical world, with no unsubs and murders and excitement, yeah. And you?" 

He shrugs and nods. "Perfect, hypothetical, world where I don't work at a split second's notice, I'd have another." 

"JJ's making you think about how much you missed with Haley and Jack?" (He nods. You have to admit JJ's making you miss it a little bit too.) "I miss when Saskia was small enough to sleep on my chest. I used to just come home and watch her sleep, her tiny hands just--" and you make little grabby movements with your hands. 

"Jack does this thing where he insists on touching you if you're near him. I used to just watch him sleep, leaning on his mattress, and he'd just hold my face." 

"JJ has so much to look forward to," you say a little wistfully and Aaron hums in agreement. "This is a weird conversation to have while we're trying to catch an unsub."

"It's a little bit of sunshine in an otherwise gloomy world," Aaron says, kissing you lightly. "Just like you." 

"You, Aaron, have a way with words," you smile and he puffs his chest proudly as he drinks his tea. "Y'know Saskia's worried about JJ?"

"No?"

"One of her teachers at school just had a baby, and she said it was like the baby was trapped inside her for years. Saskia carne home worried that JJ would keep growing until she explodes or something. She asked why we'd put 'congratulations' on a card when we should be giving her our sympathys that there's something trapped inside JJ." 

"Sometimes Saskia is an idiot, no offence." 

"Full offence taken, Aaron," and you nudge his shoulder playfully. 

"JJ's going to be a good mom," he says quietly.

"JJ's going to be an amazing Mom," you agree. "And she's going to have all the help in the world, I'm sure." You watch Aaron as he nods and doesn't meet your eye, finishing his tea. "You don't need to worry about her, Aar." 

"I always worry," he grumbles and you take his cup from him, putting it on the bedside table. 

"How long are you scheduled to worry for, Aaron?" You whisper as you crawl into his lap, palming at his bulge. He grunts and grins at you, pulling you flush against him.

"Prentiss is next door," he mumbles against your lips before kissing you. 

"If you're worried about her hearing we could just invite her to join," you joke but Aaron looks like he's considering it. Then he shakes his head, hands against your back as he lowers you onto the mattress. 

"Not tonight," he says lowly. "Tonight you're all mine." 

Never in your life have you been so thoroughly fucked into a mattress. Whatever you said to make him so possessive (... it's the Emily comment) you make a note to do it again. And a note to apologise to Emily when Aaron slams his hand against the wall to brace himself. When he cums he silences himself with your shoulder, and you return the favour on his forearm. 

"Three months," you breathe as he pulls out. Aaron turns to you, frowning. "If we're still thinking about that perfect, hypothetical world in three months, I'll discuss it with you in real, messy, imperfect world." 

"Why three?" He asks, pulling you to his chest.

"House rules. Saskia, Dad, me. We've got a three month rule on making big decisions." 

"Huh. It didn't take you three months to join the BAU." 

"It didn't take me three months to sleep with you either. Some things just fall through the cracks." 

"Three months?" He asks even though it's more a confirmation.

"Three months until we do nothing more than discuss it," you tap at his chest. "In the meantime, we have a shower calling our name and a full night's sleep." 

"You're not going to sleep," he says and you know he's referencing your reaction to the crime scene photos. 

"I dunno, after your performance I might get a solid hour in." 

"Make it two and I'll make you coffee," he says by way of ultimatum. The he chuckles. "Three and if you're still thinking about it I'll discuss it with you." 

You roll on top of him and kiss him. "Deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But also the serious conversations were a little cute.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~some time after 4x04 and messy time games around 4x05~~
> 
> Me: spends forever making sure canons between CM and NCIS match  
> Also me: SECNAV is called Lauren and she has a perfect child.

It takes Emily a week to look you on the eyes, and honestly, it kind of takes you the same amount of time too. Nobody asks why, thankfully, but neither of you give the team the satisfaction of knowing what it's about. However, it has everything to do with the fact the hotels walls might have been paper because you'd heard every part of the conversation Emily had had the next morning with JJ.

It's not until Strauss makes Rossi and Hotch go to a Enforcement Agency dinner that you and Emily talk about something other than paperwork, if only because Rossi says, in no uncertain words, that he's taking Emily if Aaron's taking you. 

"Shit," she exclaims and it's the least forced thing she's said in forever. "How am I out of eyeliner?" 

She's just in luck because you've got an unopen one in your bag, so you fish through and hand it to her. She raises an eyebrow at it, then takes it and thanks you.

"Do you always have unopened eyeliners hanging around?" She laughs as she peels the plastic. 

"It was my undercover bag," you admit. "My old boss at the field office was notorious for getting… a little too deep. He got the job done, sure, but I was also constantly pulling him out." 

"How's he doing now?" 

You shrug. "I'm pretty sure he hooked up with his ex-wife and thinks there's something there but she's getting married again to someone else so he's either going to have a beard or be bald."

"Which one's good?"

You look at her in the mirror. "Neither. But the bald looks nicer than the beard." And gosh does it make you feel better when she laughs. "I'm sorry about the other night. Like, really sorry." 

Hopefully Emily sees the remorse over your face but she brushes you off. 

"Sounds like you had fun," she smiles as she finishes off her look. A part of you wishes you were that smooth with any kind of makeup. "You both sound very happy." 

"We are." (You will not blush, but you do, and Emily knows). "But no matter how happy we are, it won't make this night any better." 

"I hate politics," Emily grumbles.

"Tell me about it." 

"What do you know about politics?" Emily laughs but you're zipping up your bag and shoving it under your arm. 

She has no idea. 

***

Admittedly, dinners (or at least the awkward drinking and finger food segment) are more bearable when Aaron, Emily and Dave are there. Dave has this interested 'hum' that's actually quite judgemental when you know him, and it makes the three of you snigger often. 

Eventually you and Emily get left behind (actually, you both work really hard to be left behind) and you're left at the mercy of a flute of champagne and some expensive looking pastries that are barely big enough to hit your tastebuds. 

"You weren't joking about hating politics," Emily laughs. 

"Felix and Harden were… obsessed, let's say, with social climbing. And the moment I could walk Dad was taking me to these things as an excuse to leave early." 

"You must have been a security nightmare."

"The first time I got drunk was at one of these. And, yes, I was a security nightmare." 

Emily looks proud of you. "First time I got drunk was at one of my mom's dinner parties. I stole a bottle of whiskey from the study."

"I stole champagne from the staff. Three bottles, actually, and Haley brought beer from her place. Really, Dad should have seen it coming." 

You both share a proud, low, hi-five. Who would have known you'd both have so much in common. 

Whenever someone tries to start conversation with either of you, you're nice, but there's an obvious aura of coldness between you which is far too playful. Emily even manages the David Rossi hum when an NCIS agent tries to show off his profiling skills. (It's bad, and he knows it's bad when he leaves). 

Aaron and Dave give you both small, bored, smiles and raise their whiskey glasses in your directions from across the room. God, you'd die for some whiskey. So you hook your arms in Emily's and weave your way through the well meaning crowd. Aaron knows immediately what you came for because he holds his glass out for you as you break through the crowd. 

"Bored yet?" Aaron asks, wrapping his now empty arm around your waist. You sip at his whiskey then press it back into his hand.

"I was bored before I put this dress on." 

"It looks very nice," Aaron murmurs into your temple and Emily makes a gagging noise. 

Someone calls your name and Aaron drops his arm, looking guilty. You whip your head around to Lauren, current Secretary of the Navy, and her little girl, Millie. Millie's an absolute saint, and for a while there you babysat her, if only because Lauren and your father had a connection. 

"When did you happen?" You coo as Millie launches her chubby little body at you. 

"Fourteen months ago, and you knew that already." She pinches Millie's cheek as you pull her into your chest. 

"But you're so big," you gasp and Millie giggles. 

Lauren pats your cheek. "Can you watch her for twenty minutes? I have to make a couple of important phonecalls." If you hadn't been cooing and pulling faces at Millie, you would have seen the urgency on her face. 

Instead, you're wrapped up in Millie's adorable face as you respond with "Mommy wants to know if I want to look after you at this incredibly boring event" in the babiest voice you can, and Millie grins a haphazardly-tooth-filled grin at you.

"We'll be fine," Aaron and Emily say quickly in unison. 

Lauren's probably grateful, but you don't see, because you're pulling far too many faces at Millie who's laughing at each one. Lauren blows kisses to each of you, then presses a couple to Millie's cheeks before stalking out of the room. You're sure you watch her shed her "mom" skin and put on her "secnav" skin in the process.

"How do you know everyone?" Rossi says and Millie's head snaps around to him, a frown on her tiny face. 

"Did you smell the marine on him?" You laugh, patting her hair. "He's one of the good guys," you stage whisper and Millie relaxes, putting her cheek on your shoulder. Pure coincidence, but it's totally worth it to see the look on Dave's face. "Lauren studied to be a medical examiner under Dad, and then he pointed her in the direction of politics, and a good thing too." Millie fists her hand over the collar of your dress. 

"Your dad encouraged someone to go into politics?" Emily asks like it's kryptonite. 

"Uh huh."

"He was very disappointed when you didn't use your politics degree," Aaron says, putting his arm around your waist once more and leaning you both up against the wall so it doesn't look like your boss is totally in love with you (which he is). 

Millie lifts her head from your shoulder and looks at Aaron, eyes wide. Then she hauls her tiny body in Aaron's direction like she's known him all her life. Somehow the transition of Millie to Aaron, drinks to you, happens seamlessly. Millie wraps her tiny, tiny arms around Aaron's neck and puts her face on his shoulder, looking at him with large eyes. 

"I think she likes you," you coo, patting her hair. Millie smiles, hands fisting at Aaron's tie. 

Aaron's completely in love. Genuinely, his eyes are so soft and he has this adorable baby face, like he knows what he's doing the whole time. And Millie's got one hand on his tie, the second tracing his face as he feigns catching her tiny fist in his mouth.

You totally miss it when Dave turns his back to the two of you, an eyebrow raised in Emily's direction.

"How long?" He says curiously.

"They're discussing it in 3 months," Emily responds, also turning away from the two of you. "Don't ask."

"And how much is seeing JJ's baby going to mess that timeline?" Dave smiles. And it's a dorky dad smile and if you'd seen it you would have been embarrassed. As is, you're watching Aaron blow raspberries onto Millie's cheeks. 

You make a second round of the room when Millie's back in your arms, sleeping against your shoulder. You grab Aaron's pinky when you see someone worth talking to, pulling him away from the polite discussion about weather and the best crime scenes they've been to (genuinely, 'the best'. One of them had a crime scene in a 5 star hotel, and hearing someone talk about the best places they've ever been is boring). 

Doctor "Ducky" Mallard, however, is a man worth talking to. NCIS's medical examiner is Spencer, aged like fine wine. He's completely oblivious to the fact that most of his conversations have only ended because he's talked so much, and he's meandering on the spot like a lost puppy.

"Ducky!" You laugh as you walk up to him, and the delightful old man turns with a smile on his face. 

"My dear y/n," he says joyfully and clasps your shoulder when he sees Millie. "This little angel is not your Saskia." 

"She belongs to Lauren, don't you," (Millie nods, giggles, and nestles further into you). "This is Millie. And Ducky, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner, Aaron, this is Ducky. He's NCIS's medical examiner, and can make up a damn good profile." 

"Ah, I'm still learning," Ducky hangs his head modestly. Bless him. Aaron shakes his hand, trying to search his memory for if he'd seen Ducky before. "You are head of the Behavioural Analyst Unit in Quantico, yes?" 

"Yes, that's me," Aaron smiles as Millie takes a fistful of your hair in her hands and chews it. 

Ducky starts talking about the history of the BAU like Aaron doesn't know about it and you smile as Aaron relaxes considerably, obviously at home with the medical examiner that so clearly resembles an older Spencer. 

Rossi and Emily join you (Rossi and Ducky knowing each other, of course, you have to roll your eyes at that) and Emily's cooing quietly at Millie, playing peek-a-boo behind your shoulder. Sometimes Millie acts surprised, other times she ducks from Emily and you have to giggle when Emily comes back up and Millie's nowhere to be seen. 

"We were just stuck in a pissing contest with a bunch of crime scene investigators about their best crime scenes," you say as you elbow Aaron. "I think we're all bored of 5 star hotel murders, and I'm telling you right now, Ducky has a string of much more interesting ones." 

"It's hardly dinner time conversation," Ducky says but you're pouting the way you used to when he'd come over for dinner and refuse to tell you his latest case. 

"Duck, how many times do you get to talk about cases outside of work?" You push. "Plus, it'll make this lot feel a whole lot better about some of the crime scenes they've been dragged to." 

"Dragged?" Aaron and Dave squeak defensively.

"Dragged," you and Emily confirm and Millie shrieks playfully. "Go on, Ducky," you urge him. "Tell them about the hot tub." (And, oh, does he explain in detail what it's like to fish a week old dead body out of a hot tub) (totally worth it). 

When Lauren finally comes back (far longer than twenty minutes) Millie's asleep on your shoulder, one hand wrapped around Aaron's finger and he doesn't move an inch. 

You make a tiny, surprised gasp, when Lauren approaches but not enough to wake Millie. Ducky's been called away to a crime scene but he was grinning as he left. 

"There's Mommy," you coo and Millie doesn't move. 

"I'm so sorry," she says, rubbing Millie's back. 

"Don't be, she's been an angel," you pout a little when Millie wakes, rubbing her eyes and then holds her arms out for her mom.

"I'm glad she wants me back," Lauren says dramatically as she takes Millie into her arms. "Listen, shit's about to hit the fan, but it's not FBI jurisdiction unless you're here." She winks and motions you in the direction of the door.

She doesn't need to say more as Dave links his arm in Emily's and Aaron takes yours (if only to pull you away from Millie) and you all spill out into the carpark.

"I guess this is good night," you smile, squeezing Aaron's arm.

"I hope we never have to do this again, but if we do, I hope we do it together," Prentiss smiles. 

"Agreed," you smile. Rossi and Aaron hum their agreement. "I'll see you all tomorrow?" 

Everyone nods as you split from Dave and Emily. You don't say anything to each other as you and Aaron get in the car, or as you pull out of the carpark, or when Aaron reaches over and takes your hand. It's only when he sniffles and wipes his cheek when he thinks you aren't looking that you say something. 

"You miss Jack?" You whisper.

"I'm okay," he says, but his voice is wet like he's trying not to cry. 

"You don't have to be okay," you say, kissing his hand. "Do you want me to drive?" 

"Nah," he says, forcing a smile. "I'm okay." 

He's totally not okay. 

*** 

Aaron curls around you as he sleeps, hands intertwined with yours. You wake far too early in the morning to someone knocking on your door. You manage to pull yourself free of Aaron, even though he tries to pull you back, and you pull on a dressing gown as you answer the door.

Melissa is standing on your front steps, covered in blood splatter, eyes blood shot, and you're beyond glad Saskia stayed at a friend's house.

"I didn't know what to do," Melissa sobs. "I didn't know where to go." 

And, god, you wish you could say something to ease Aaron when he comes out of your bedroom and his eyes land right on Melissa and he says;

"What's going on?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was FUN to write ngl.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be some plot, and some smut. (Warning: sometimes Aaron really does get down and dirty)

It takes you a minute because Aaron's behind you, and while he hasn't said anything more, you know he's waiting for an answer. And then there's Melissa, who's bottom lip is quivering and she's started shivering. 

"Nobody followed me," Melissa whimpers. "And I know your kid's at someone else's house and--" 

"You followed her kid?" Aaron says, and bless him for not right out saying Saskia's name. He even comes up beside you, which feels odd until you realise that he's pulling Saskia's name tag down from her door, throwing it into her room, and pulling the door shut. You reach back and squeeze his hand gratefully. He squeezes it back in acknowledgment.

"No," and Melissa looks like she's about to crumble as her shoulders shake. "I didn't kill him, he was trying to help me!" And, oh, does she crumple. She crumples so much that you're reminded of how young she really is. 

You pull her in as your neighbours push aside their curtains to see who's on your doorstep. Sure, it's before sunrise, and your neighbours have watched your house being searched before, but now was not the time for curiousity. It might have been nice if they'd checked during Felix. 

Aaron walks ahead of you, putting himself between Melissa and photographs of Saskia. At this point you're not even sure it's intentional, it's purely just him being protective. Bless.

You perch her on the edge of your couch, back to the photo wall, and Aaron stands in the doorway. There's no way she's running, that you're sure of. You smile softly at Aaron, as if to tell him it's fine, but he doesn't move. (Again, bless.) You crouch in front of her, taking her hands in yours. 

"What happened, Melissa?" And, gosh, meeting her in person is so much weirder than passing her in the coffee shop, or weird phone calls early in the morning. 

You don't understand a single thing she says at first, because she's too busy trying to force words out through her tears. And maybe a part of Aaron suddenly sees Spencer and Sean too because he relaxes (not enough, but you're reminded of those nights where Aaron tried to be Dad to Sean while Sean cried to you about his little league game). Aaron leaves his post, pouring a glass of water for Melissa, and handing it to her.

"Drink," he says. "We can wait." He disappears for a breath, then comes back with a wet flannel and a box of kleenex. 

"Aar," you say quietly, but he brushes you off.

"The blood from her clothes will be enough for evidence." He stands back in the doorframe. "Nobody needs to explain a traumatic event with blood on their face."

Melissa nods, sips at her water, blows her nose, then wipes her face clean. Aaron takes her flannel from her when she bunches it in her lap.

"I didn't get to Mexico," Melissa sniffles. "They said with someone following me it was too dangerous. But, Lance Corporal Daniels, he said he could help me get out. H-his wife, she knew Mom, and she could get me out there again." 

God, Aaron looks torn. He knows he shouldn't know whatever Melissa's saying, that's evident, but then he seems to be torn between listening and helping or listening and forgetting. His eyes jump to you a couple of times, like he's expecting you to explain, even though (realistically) you're only a couple of paragraphs ahead of him. 

"So who's blood is on you?" You prompt. Melissa tenses for a split second, so quick you almost miss it, then she drops her head and sniffles again.

"Lance Corporal Daniels."

"When?" you prompt again, bouncing slightly on your heels. 

"Last night," she mumbles. "But I called it in! I swear! I just couldn't stay they would have—" and, oh boy, does she start wailing. You pull her into you, pressing her face into your shoulder as you look at Aaron. 

He doesn't say anything, but questions and answers are flying behind his eyes quicker than you can read them. He crosses his arms, drumming his fingers against his bicep. Then he tilts his head, silent calling you into the hallway. 

You rub Melissa's back, then whisper that you'll be back and tell her to drink her water before following Aaron. He pulls your sliding door divider closed just enough that you can keep an eye on Melissa.

"You okay?" He whispers, rubbing your arm. 

"I'm fine," you say, eyebrows creasing. You really don't have time to check in with each other. But you also just want to crumple into his arms and hope this whole day is just an elaborate nightmare. 

"You can't hide her," Aaron whispers.

"Aar-" 

"She needs to give a statement to NCIS, you know that." He squeezes your shoulders. 

"Melissa's scared shitless, I'm not driving her to DC to get grilled by some marine detective." 

But Aaron's face softens and he shakes his head. "I didn't say DC. The team won't be in yet, we can use one of the conference rooms. We can bag her clothes, document any injuries, clean her up a bit. She doesn't need to strew in that any longer." 

You make a noise that's garbled somewhere between a 'naw' and shock. 

"That's breaking all the rules," you whisper, glancing back at Melissa. It doesn't sound like a terrible plan, truth be told. And if Aaron's willing to back you up, then it must be brilliant.

"She called you the other week, yes?" (You nod) "for whatever reason, you see her like you see Sean. And I don't want—don't think—I should know why. We'd break the rules for Sean and Spencer, might as well add Melissa." 

You cup his face in your hands, massaging his cheeks with your thumbs. "Are you sure? You could lose your job if this goes south." 

"Might as well go out helping someone I love." You can't help but kiss him. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. "Go help Melissa. I'll make some phonecalls."

***

Aaron drives you and Melissa to HQ just as sunrise hits. You should be watching Melissa (she's prone to randomly bursting into tears, or just opening the back door, so you've put the child lock on) but instead your eyes keep flicking over Aaron's face and how soft he looks in the golden light.

He catches you looking and smiles at you. God, you love him. 

"Okay?" He asks, glacing at Melissa in the review mirror. 

You bite your bottom lip and nod, not quite looking away from him. He notices, reaching over and squeezing your knee. You heart flutters and you really, really, wish Melissa hadn't turned up. Purely for selfish reasons of course.

***

Melissa gives her witness statement in Aaron's office as you make a couple of phonecalls. Agent Gibbs agrees she needs to be back in witness protection when surveillance footage from the scene showed that Melissa only narrowly missed being shot. 

Narrowly, as in "Lance Corporal Daniels saw something at the last second and pushed her away" narrow. 

He gets you onto Mike Franks (reluctantly, of course) who asks if you can put her into Witness Protection for a breath while he deals with whatever he needs to deal with.

So you call Sam, and practically get on your hands and knees to beg him to take her. You even offer to pay him double, straight out of your own pocket, if only to keep her safe. Thankfully, he turns that down. All you have to do is drop her off at a coffee shop just after seven. 

Aaron brushes his hand against your lower back as Melissa's released from her long-distance grilling, drawing you out of your work haze. 

"Good to go?" he whispers as Melissa drags her feet into the bullpen. You glance at him.

"You don't have to go," you whisper back, pressing a hand to his stomach. "You can just stay." 

"Nonsense," he smiles like he's a kid about to go on an excursion. "I have a gun."

You roll your eyes, because you both have a gun, but you're not about to turn good company down. 

"I should get these clothes back to you," Melissa says quietly. You smile at her and shark your head. 

"It's okay, someone should be wearing them." You grab your keys and jingle them. "Let's get you safe, then, yeah?" 

"I should've listened to Mom," Melissa says as you step into the elevator. "She told me not to leave. But I wanted to." 

Aaron gives her a tight lipped smile as he presses the button for the carpark. "We all rebel against our parents at one point or another." 

"Some of us have better experiences than others," you add and Aaron just hums in agreement. 

"Neither of you ever rebelled against your parents, look at you," Melissa says glumly and both you and Aaron snort. 

"Sure," you say in unison. And that seems to cheer her up.

*** 

"You're a lot like your mom," Melissa says as you hand her a coffee. "She was always opening her door to us when we needed her."

You pause, body frozen, then smile politely. She's too young to know your mom.

"We lost a good woman when she died," Melissa continues. "Mom was inconsolable for months." Maybe she's not too young. 

Aaron greets Sam outside as Melissa hops from foot to foot. 

"Your daughter," Melissa chirps up when the silence drags on. "She's safe. You both are." 

"Safe?" Your body tenses. Why would you need to be 'safe'.

"From hitmen, serial killers, y'know, the bad guys?" 

"Why?" You turn, stepping so you're blocking her from the storefront windows.

"Well, they put a claim on you. The guy who killed all those people… White Lily. He gave up his title, but sometimes he comes back just so we know."

You know she's right as you say "he's gone."

"He killed your ex-husband because he threatened you and your daughter. It's like surfing on someone's wave. You're the wave and he's the bigger, burlier, surfer who'll squash the bastard. Some of us have died to be in your position." She raises her takeaway cup to you, "take care."

You almost spit the words back in her face. What kind of parting is that? Aaron and Sam exchange Melissa like some weird father-to-father hand off. 

"You okay?" Aaron says for the thousandth time that morning.

"Apparently I'm safe because I'm marked by a serial killer." 

Aaron sighs, hooking his fingers around yours. "All that matters is that you're safe." 

"You're not going to ask what this morning was about?" 

"I'm pretty sure this is what your dad meant when he told me some secrets are worth keeping." And gosh, does he look pretty when you look up at him. "Y'know, the team won't arrive for another hour. And the cameras are still down in my office." 

You want to judge him for being horny now, of all times, but then… well, Aaron bending you over his desk seems like a good way to forget that some serial killer (that you thought you'd put away) has laid claim to you. 

Yes. To forget the serial killer claiming, you'd let Aaron Hotchner claim you. 

Which is how you end up bent over his desk, breasts pressed into his desk, shirt pushed up, Aaron thrusting into you. You've already knocked a couple of pens off his desk, and if you weren't so focussed on how full you feel, or the fact that the team could walk in at any moment and see you, you might have tried to figure out what would fall next. 

"Fuck you feel so good," Aaron grunts as he lets go of your hips and pins your hands behind your back, repeating himself. You don't think you've ever heard him be so vocal. 

"Aar," you moan, cheek pressed against the cold desk. 

"I need you to cum for me, baby," he grunts, leaning down to your ear. "Before the whole team sees you like this." He keeps talking but you're not really listening because your orgasms finds you full force, Aaron not far behind.

"Good girl," he says into your neck as he fixes your shirt, pulls out, and drops to his knees, licking at the cum that dribbles down your leg. Then he tucks himself back in his pants, pulls your underwear back up, and looks proudly at you as you stand and turn around.

You wipe the corner of his mouth and kiss him lightly. "Can I order some verbal Aaron for home, please?"

He blushes and soothes your hair down. "I'll register that order with the boss." 

And honestly, thank god you finished when you did, because Morgan and Dave don't knock before they barge into Aaron's office, begging Aaron to end an arguement between the two of them.

Thankfully, neither of them comment on how Aaron readjusts his pants, or how you rebutton your shirt, or the fact that both you and Aaron are flushed and blissful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~this is only the beginning~~


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♡ Haley Hotchner is bisexual 2020 ♡

"Hey, Rossi, can I run something past you?" You ask softly as you enter his office, paperwork in hand. 

"The table in the conference room is more risque, but the office desk is more comfortable," he says, not looking up from his desk. Your cheeks heat but you don't give him the satisfaction of looking dumb founded or stuttering. He's fishing for a response.

"About paperwork, but I'll keep that in mind for next time." You kick the door closed behind you, handing him the file in your hand. At that he looks up curiously, cocking his head the way only an ex-marine can. "Honest, paperwork," you repeat as you take a seat across from him. 

He nods, opening the file. You sit in silence as Dave reads through the paperwork, dropping advice here and there about things that you've missed. Then he straightens it on his table and steeples his fingers under his chin.

"You look exhausted," he says, fishing once more. 

"I had to deal with some stuff," you say, albeit a little cryptically. Rossi narrows his eyes at you. "It's fine." 

"The kind of stuff that has you in earlier than I've ever seen you both?" He's fishing really deep for confirmation that you and Aaron really were doing the Devil's Tango in Aaron's office, but fishing is good, because fishing means he doesn't know for sure. 

"Stuff that had us dealing with NCIS," you say, not a correction but Rossi takes it as one. He drops his steepled hands (ameteur move, and the fact that you recognise it as one means he's probably playing you) and places them on the table.

"Was it about last night?"

You shrug. "Probably." 

Rossi shakes his head at you. 

"Until the case is closed I literally can't breathe a word to you, those are the rules." And you dramatically zip your lips shut, twisting your fingers to lock it shut. 

"Who's rules," it's not a question, but a request as his hand hovers over his phone.

"Agent Gibbs, and my bet is he's still in interrogation and on his thirteenth coffee." 

Dave looks at you like you've summoned Beetlejuice. He doesn't pick up the phone. "Agent Gibbs, hey? He's a bit of a bastard." You're sure the insult is all in good fun, but you can never be too sure with Rossi and other ex-marines. 

"I'd be careful insulting a man with more ex-wives than you," you return and Rossi blows out his cheeks. Good. "Can I leave now?" 

He waves you away, but as you stand he holds a hand up. "You and Hotch." 

"Is there a question in there, or are you just pairing off agents?" If looks could kill, David Rossi would have just ended your life. He motions for you to sit and you drop your paperwork back on his desk, collapsing back into the chair.

"Are you okay?" 

"The next time someone asks if I'm okay today, I'm going to string them up in the foyer by their ears." 

"Is there a reason you shouldn't be?"

"No!" (The bark is stronger than a bite). "Look I've been awake since before dawn, I've helped NCIS with a case, I've been interrogated by you, Morgan and Garcia, and I would very much like to see my daughter that I was supposed to drop at school but couldn't because of the whole NCIS thing." You pause, catching your breath as Dave just blinks at you. "I also recently found out that I'm someone's wave, which doesn't exactly 'sound fun'." You dramatically air quote and Dave looks at you like you've imploded. "Can I leave now?" 

"After that? No." 

You cross your arms and wish the chair would swallow you whole. "Really, Rossi, I'm fine." 

"Last time you said that I seem to remember a certain young lady crying in her car." How Dave manages to treat you like a teenager even though you're a full blown adult with a kid that's almost a decade old is beyond you. (Ah, shit. It's Saskia's birthday next week. How did you forget that). 

"Dave, really. I'm okay. It's just been a long day and it's not even midday." 

He looks at you, long and hard. "You and Hotch, you're both happy, yes?"

"...yes? What changed between last night and now that made you change your mind?" 

He shakes his head. "I just want to make sure you're not doing this to fill a hole."

Surely there's an innuendo there somewhere. "I'm not." Rossi holds your look and you're sure he's asking whether you think you're moving too fast. "We're happy, and we're safe, and we keep it professional at work. Anything else we need to keep in mind?" 

"I would accuse you of moving too fast, but with your track record, you and Hotch are moving remarkably slow." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"When did you and Felix get married?"

"... two months after we graduated highschool."

"And Harden's engagement?" 

"Four months after we met." Okay, maybe Dave has a point. It's been almost a year since you joined the BAU, seven months since New York. Dave notices that you've come to the same conclusion as he has. 

"I just want to remind you there's more than just your heart at play this time. And I don't mean Hotch. Saskia and Jack are tangled up in this too." 

Realistically you've never been one for superstition beliefs, but you still find yourself leaning forward and knocking on Dave's desk. He smirks.

"You can go now." 

"Thank God." 

***

Aaron gets pulled away to a board meeting and it's one of those days where the team just chill like you're back at school. You manage to get away from the team long enough to shower, change clothes, fix your hair, and fish around for your birth control. 

You're almost out. You write a note on the back of your hand to drop by the chemist before you're completely out and you do something you regret.

You're heading back to the bullpen when Haley steps out of the elevator with Jack and Saskia in tow.

"Hales?" You smile, dropping your bag as Saskia bowls into you, then drop to your knees as Jack flings himself over you. 

"I don't want to dump them on you, but your dad got me a job interview and told me to leave them with you until he gets back." You've genuinely never seen her look so remorseful. 

"Don't worry about it," you smile, because having the kids in the office might be the kind of day you, and the team, need. "Shouldn't you be at school, beautiful?" You ask as you cup Saskia's cheek. 

Haley gives you that full lipped, head tilting smile, that tells you that you both need to talk later. Saskia doesn't meet your eyes so you just kiss her forehead as you stand. 

"Dad's at a budget meeting," you say, ruffling Jack's hair. "Wanna get something from the bakery and we'll surprise the team?"

Kids and sweets. Both of them are way too excited. Saskia grabs your bag, hauling it over her shoulder, then wraps herself around your arm. Jack takes your other hand, and then Haley's, dropping his feet so you both swing him. 

In the elevator Jack swings from the railings like a monkey and Saskia rubs her face into your arm. Haley raises an eyebrow at you when she sees the note on your hand. 

"You've never had to remind yourself before," she says. The kids look up at the two of you, then start their own conversation about Saskia's nintendogs (Hotch is good at agility, but he's masterclass at obedience and that means nothing to you but it seems fitting). 

"It's never been regular enough to fret about remembering," you respond, eyes trained on the numbers going down, down, down. Haley whistles lowly. "How's… Joshua?"

"Not worth it." (You shouldn't be proud of it, you're literally in a relationship with her ex). "I've been seeing someone else for a bit, though." (The elevator stops, you all exit at the ground floor). "They're not Aaron, but they're nice. Good."

"Does he treat you right?" You say, nodding to security as you exit the building.

"Yeah. She does." (And, fuck, you're proud of her.) 

"I'm glad. You deserve all the happiness in the world." Because, genuinely, she does. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Haley smiles, waving you off. "Guess dad was wrong when he said it was a phase." 

You shrug. "He'd probably still argue that it's a phase. You're grieving, Haley." And you do a dramatic impersonation of her father that's all too accurate. 

Haley laughs. "That's what Jess said." 

"Then we must be right." 

"It's just us at the moment, no--" (and she motions to Jack and Saskia). 

"My lips are sealed." 

Your train of adult and child stops, Haley leaning over to kiss your cheek. She waves Saskia and Jack forward, who reluctantly break (a little less reluctant when you give Saskia money for the bakery) and she hooks her arm in yours. 

"Is Saskia still seeing her therapist?" Haley asks and you shake your head. You've been meaning to make an appointment, but she's doing so much better than she used to be doing. "Maybe make an appointment or two? I dropped by her school 'cause Crystal works in the office now, but they had a fake lockdown and Saskia didn't deal with it very well." 

"Why didn't they call me?" You whisper. Haley squeezes your arm.

"Because I was there. It's fine. But I've never seen a kid so scared to come out from beneath a desk." 

You sigh and put your head on Haley's shoulder, watching as Saskia swings Jack's arm over a path light. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Hales." 

"You did alright leading up to now," she responds as she squeezes your arm. 

"Alright and good are two very different things." 

"I would want you as my mother." 

"I'd want you too." You squeeze her hand and lift your head from her shoulder. "When's your job interview?" 

"Half an hour, I should head soon." She soothes down her hair. "Thank you." 

"For what?" You ask.

"Grease," she says. To any passerby it's nothing, but you know she's talking about both of your first kisses. While watching Grease on the crappy TV your dad had let you put in your room. And what a good kiss it had been.

"I'd say anytime, but I'm kind of tied up with this guy," you joke (almost word for word the way she told you she was seeing Aaron) (how you remembered that is beyond you). 

"Hmmmm. God bless." She squeezes your cheeks. "Who would have thought we'd both end up here." 

"Good luck with your interview." 

***

Aaron's back in the office by the time you get back with an assortment of slices and donuts. Saskia lures the team out of the bullpen by shaking the box like she's feeding a cat (Spencer is the first to go, followed by Prentiss and then Morgan) as Jack waddles behind you because he wants to surprise Aaron. 

You knock lightly at Aaron's door and he hums a tune that resembles 'come in' and you pop the door just enough for Jack to sneak in.

"Special delivery for SA Hotchner," Jack says, clearly proud of himself. Aaron's up in a heartbeat, correcting Jack to 'SSA' and scooping his son into his arms. 

You smile at Aaron, pulling the door closed as the two of them collapse onto his couch, no questions asked. You bounce over to Dave's office, dropping him a lemon meringue (he looks like he might kiss you), then back into the bullpen as Saskia comes back--a saved Raspberry/Jello cheesecake for JJ (she's been craving it for weeks since the last time you gave her one) and a smiley face chocolate biscuit for Garcia. 

She positions herself under your desk, tapping at the underside of your desk because it 'makes a nice noise' and then she settles down as she pulls out her DS to feed her dogs. 

You're engrossed in paperwork when an unfamiliar hand knocks on your desk. You jump, looking up to see Agent Gibbs, in the flesh. He looks so much older in person. 

"We need to talk," his voice is gruff, uninviting, and oh-so-very marine. 

"Spence?" You call, and he gives you a thumbs up that he can watch Saskia. You're halfway to standing when Gibbs points at the earring box on your desk.

"Bring the earrings. It'll scare some people." 

Yeah, just like you. You don't argue. There's no time.

And, you're far too curious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Saskia and Jack are going to BOND over TRAUMA after Foyet and it's only going to get more intense.~ (But also Saskia's going to be the best protective big sister).   
> ~~also sometimes I just listen to 'She' by dodie and imagine it's highschool Reader&Haley so that lil bisexual teenage yearning is gonna be canon now~~


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Much. Exposition. Below.  
> ☆with some cute Jack and Saskia time☆

Sometimes, being raised by an ex-marine comes in handy. You've got a fearsome poker face, you don't cower in the face of danger, you're used to keeping up with inhumanely fast walking, tall, men. And their steely silence after "we need to talk" is practically comforting.

As you walk Gibbs's coat billows behind him, and your earrings bounce against your neck. He doesn't give you an explanation as he turns down an alleyway. He does, however, thankfully stop at the bottom of a rickety fire escape staircase half way down the alley.

"Melissa told you about the pact, yes?" 

You nod. "She told me I was his wave." 

Gibbs just shakes his head like the whole thing's ridiculous. "DiNozzo found your surfer." (God, how the fuck does a marine make a joke like that).

You walk up seven (seven!) flights of stairs before climbing through a window into a room that looks like it came out of a 1950s gangster movie. It's filled with cigar smoke that twists and twirls like mist around you. It sticks in your throat and you fight not to cough. Gibbs's silent existence behind you is the only thing that stops you from drawing your gun.

"Why'd you bring her with you?" Someone says from the shadows and your day couldn't get any more cliche. Gibbs doesn't say anything, just gives the smoke an entitled shrug. If he wasn't a marine he probably would have said 'too bad, too sad'. 

"She's fine," says the gruff, familiar voice that used to taunt your dreams, until it took down Felix and left you, Haley, Jack and Saskia standing. Now it was (uncomfortably) of some comfort whenever you heard it. "How're the kids?" He asks it like you're two old friends just catching up. and THAT makes your skin crawl. You don't want to dignify him with an answer so you just give one, strong, nod. 

"And Hales Bales?" (Your hand doesn't fly protectively to your phone--the only place you've called her that--but you're close to it.) 

"Leave her out of it, she didn't sign up for this," you snap. And through all the smoke and darkness and inability to see much more than three pairs of feet (minus your own, and Gibbs'), you're sure one of them nods. 

"The children did?" The third, who has yet to have spoken, says. 

White Lily slams something down on a flat surface, and it jingles like wind chimes. Until you realise the wind chime jingling is tiny pieces of glass, falling to the ground. And you wish, beyond anything, that you hadn't agreed to coming. 

"I get it, I get it, no children," the third says, somewhat exhausted. "It's the rules."

Gibbs's whole body changes the temperature of the room as he shifts behind you. You honestly think you might freeze over while burning alive. You glance back at him, pushing your hair behind your ear, but he's as stoic as Diane and Tobias described him as. You've got no idea what he's thinking about. You've got no idea why you're here.

When you turn back to the three, they seem to be waiting expectantly. 

"Why am I here?" You ask, because all the other questions are too much to ask. 

Silence.

Okay, new question. 

"Why aren't I dead?" 

Silence.

Now your patience is wearing thin.

"Okay, look, you're not the wayward sisters who are about to bubble, bubble, toil and trouble your way into making my life hell. I want to know why I'm here, why I'm not dead, why Melissa's running, and if my kids and best friend are safe." You flex your hands, forcing yourself to slow down and breathe. Bit of a freudian slip there about Saskia and Jack, but if someone's threatening you you'd better be bloody sure it doesn't extend to Jack and Haley because of your relationship with Aaron.

"You weren't kidding about her being her mother," the third chuckles. Gibbs grunts in response. 

"Take a seat," the first that had spoken says. You can't see if he's actually pointed a seat out to you so you shake your head in… polite?... declination. There's nothing to be polite about. 

"I have no doubt you've heard about our guild?" 

"Sure." You cross your arms. 

"Melissa told you." (Not a question, and you're not entirely sure who said it.) "Before you were born, your mother started camps for people who should be dead."

"Unofficial WITSEC, I know. Doesn't answer any of my questions." 

"It would if you listened," White Lily tells you. "She gave incredibly specific rules for everyone. Children, they were never to be touched or become collateral damage. We weren't to continue killing, we could only kill to get rid of threats, or to keep our reputation." 

"All those people you killed?" You ask, and you're beginning to regret not taking that seat. 

"They threatened to expose a bunch of the groups. When they refused to keep the information to themselves, I must admit that I reverted to my old ways. Your husband, however, he seemed promising. I thought he could take over the name while I watched one of the camps. When I returned." He leaves the rest open for you to fill in the blanks. "When I heard about Saskia, about you believing White Lily, I, had threatened her I knew he was doing it himself." 

And you guess you actually feel sorry for him. A little bit, just because he seems to be a genuine guy. If killers could be a genuine person. 

"I'm sorry that you had to live through that." 

You nod a little. "Thank you." (What else are you supposed to say?)

"Thinking back on it, I should have killed him. The first time."

"The first time?" And your voice comes out more as a whisper. 

"When you came home, found him dead." (You remember. You can't not remember. How he felt in your arms, limp and cold. How you couldn't bring him back. How you'd screamed until someone had called for help. How you cradled Saskia against you so she didn't see her dad, covered in blood, sprawled out on the floor. How Haley had caught you when you got out of the house.) "I'm sorry I left him alive. But I thought him watching you from a distance would be enough to teach him a lesson."

"But he's dead now? Properly?"

"Yes. And agent Morgan and Agent Prentiss can confirm that." (You're glad. You feel awful, but it's true. You're relieved.) "For your last question, Saskia, Jack and Haley are safe. We're not killers anymore, we're not following them. Anyone who threatens them will find themselves in a whole lot of trouble."

"Thank you." It's like life is breathed back into you, just knowing that they're safe. 

"Melissa, she wasn't running. Not at first. She wanted to leave, we let her. No one knew Jane had a daughter. Your mother made sure of that. She wanted to go to university, get a phd, and she did well. She got through college, she was studying microbiology, she'd come home every now and then, then one day she fought with Jane. She left and she was followed, we're sure, and I guess she knew she couldn't go home until no one was following her anymore." 

"She was scared," you say and you swear the room hums in response.

"But she's home now, and safe." 

"She found my home, she knew where my daughter was." You don't mean to sound so pathetic, but you do. Gibbs steps up behind you, if only to remind you that he's there, for whatever reason. 

"I promise that won't happen again," the third practically growls. You really wish you had his name. You're not sure you like the way he says that.

"I don't want Melissa hurt." (You just want to make sure no one else turns up at your house). 

"Okay," he groans like you've popped his favourite balloon. 

"You wanted to know why you're here," the first says. He stands, disrupting the smoke filled air, but he doesn't come close enough for you to see who he is. "Agent Reno wishes to expose us for who we are, to bring everyone out of hiding. We can't let that happen."

"I'm already dragging her along," you defend. "I'm not sure there's much more I can do." 

"She killed Lance Corporal Daniels," Gibbs fills in. "But she's CIA and nothing will stick."

"That's never stopped you before," you respond, turning to him. Working in the field office with Fornell told you all you needed to know about that. 

"This time it has. Whenever we pin something it disappears." 

"You want me to make something stick?" You frown. "I can't just make something stick." 

"But you can report her, or convince a supervisor to look over her reports." The fact that he's not wrong kind of pisses you off. 

"I'll see what I can do." You're handed a stack of files, your mother's name written over the top. "What's this?" 

"What you'll take over if you can get rid of Reno." 

You open it, files upon files of faces you vaguely remember from your childhood. Blueprints of places you thought you'd imagined. 

"Take over?"

"A couple months of the year, you'd be out there, with the families. Wyoming and Hawaii were your mother's home base, she took you." (You nod, because you know.) "You'd be free to take Saskia." 

She'd like that. You know she'd like that. Saskia always wants a sense of direction, and that would be the greatest sense of direction. You know it's some of your own greatest memories. 

"Your mother had the same rules as the CIA when it comes to who you can and can't tell," White Lily says as the files are taken away. "The rest is up to your discretion."

Great. More secrets to keep from Aaron. 

"Think it over." 

But you've already thought it over. There's no way you're turning down all those people. 

Gibbs places a hand on your shoulder before you're both climbing out the window. You're half way down the second flight of stairs when something occurs to you, and you tell Gibbs to wait, hightailing it back up the staircase.

"Did you forget something?" White Lily says, the kettle boiling somewhere in that cursed darkness.

"This... claiming… or, I don't know, Melissa called me your 'wave', what the fuck does that mean? Am I just waiting for you to get bored and shoot me?" 

"No," he says softly. "Without being invasive, I have surveillance on the two of you. Should anyone try and get to you, you'll be safe. Hopefully, next time, quicker than I could get to you during Felix." 

"Why?"

"You work a dangerous job. Best to keep the serial killers off your back." 

"Why you, though?"

"Because I owe your mother a lot. And one day, I'm sure, someone will owe you that much too." He clears his throat. "If it's not too much, why did you never enquire about Agent Hotchner? His safety?" 

"He has a team behind him at every step. If something happens to him, what, 12 hours tops before someone finds him. And the team? They'd work tirelessly to find who did it. Haley hasn't got that, not right now." 

"Consider her protected the best I can." 

"Thank you." 

You're slower going down the stairs, Gibbs already pottering around at the base. 

"Why'd you take me here?" You ask as you come out into civilised society. You brush at your clothes like it'll get rid of the smoke smell. 

"Your parents looked out for me and Shan when we moved, the best they could. Your mom wanted to take Shan and Kelly" (here is voice gets heavy, and you hang your head so you don't have to look at the rare display of emotion) "didn't get, y'know, but she meant well. She'd want you to follow in her footsteps." 

"I didn't know you could use so many words," you say if only to break the tension. 

"Hold onto Saskia for me," he says as you come up to the FBI building. "Don't ever forget how much she means to you." 

"I won't." You kiss his cheek and rub his arm. "Thanks." 

***

Your mood has really hit the sewers as you step into the bullpen. Mostly because of all the glum information that's been shoved into your brain, and also because you've been awake for so. Long.

"What did Agent Gibbs want?" Morgan says, leaning back on his chair. You pull out your own, frowning at the blankets Saskia's shoved under your desk, with no Saskia in them.

"Hotch's office," Prentiss says without looking up from her paperwork. 

You thank her, popping Hotch's door open. 

He's pulled the limited cushions off his couch, propping his head up from the floor, his jacket over the back of his chair. He's lying on his side, Jack sprawled over him, asleep, as Aaron watches Saskia tapping away at her DS, explaining what the dogs can do as she walks them. 

Saskia looks up, a massive smile on her face, then puts her finger to her lips. 

"Jack's asleep," she whispers and Aaron manouvers his head to smile at you. Then Saskia pats the space next to her. "I'm showing Uncle Aaron my dogs." 

It doesn't take long for Saskia to end up in your lap, drifting in and out of sleep, until her DS falls from her hands and she's snoring softly against your chest.

"I don't think either of them can be comfortable," you whisper and Aaron chuckles, shaking his head.

"But they're asleep. What did Agent Gibbs want?" 

"Just a follow up about Melissa." You stroke Saskia's hair and kiss the top of her head. "This has been a long day." 

"Mmm. Let's not make a habit of hiding strangers." 

"Deal," you say weakly. 

***

Haley rings hours after her job interview should have finished and asks if Aaron can keep Jack for the night. She's decided to go out for drinks with friends or something, but honestly you don't think Aaron cares because nothing's come up at work and it's a whole night with Jack.

Which would have been just Jack and Aaron, but Jack insisted that Saskia and you had to come over because there were too many movies you haven't watched and 'dad makes the best pizzas'.

Which is why it's 8.30pm, there's discarded pizza crusts on the coffee table, Jack's asleep in his room (that's hardly ever slept in), Saskia's asleep on his floor (she was reading him the Hobbit, but she fell asleep, and neither you nor Aaron are willing to move her), and Aaron's trying to clean bubbles out of his hair. 

"Someone should tell us from last night that today was going to happen," Aaron grins as he passes you, collecting the pizza crusts from the table. 

You shake your head. "I'd rather she didn't know." 

Aaron sticks a soggy pizza crust in his mouth and you can't even find it in yourself to care.

"Aar?" (He looks up at you and shoves the rest of the crust into his mouth). "Do you ever feel like everything you know is a lie?"

"I work tor the FBI, I feel like that every day." He collects a bunch of plates and shoves them into his sink. Which is when he realises you're being serious. "Everything okay?"

"I got offered another job, if I finish one," (god, cryptic conversations will be the end of you) "and it's good. Really good. But I think I made a deal with a serial killer to get it. Isn't that… I dunno, against everything we should be doing?" 

"Probably," he says, coming over and rubbing your shoulders. "Do you think you made the right choice?" 

You take a deep breath. "Yeah. I do." 

"Then trust yourself." He kisses your forehead, then your nose. You shake your head and meet his lips, wrapping you arms around his neck.

"This is very domestic," you murmur into his lips. He grins, nodding, and pulls you to him, hands cupping your butt.

"We can do the rest in the morning. Right now, you look like you need a week's worth of sleep." 

"I do," you chuckle as Aaron squeezes you, waddling the both of you to the bedroom because he won't let you go.

He pushes his bedroom door mostly closed with his foot, pushing you onto the bed before collapsing on top of you.

"It's nice to have the kids here," Aaron says as he rolls off you and crawls to his side of the bed. 

"Isn't it?" You reply as you wrestle your way under his covers. Aaron pulls you into him, wrapping you up in his arms.

"They're going to attack us in the morning. Saskia's already laid out a battle plan with Jack." 

You smile, burying your nose into his chest. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: ok, keep it together  
> Mom: calls Saskia and Jack "her kids"  
> The room full of ex serial killers: °0° seems legit.   
> ~  
> Is Gibbs a lil bit of foreshadowing? Maybe.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HATE 'babe' and 'baby' as pet names, but honestly, Aaron would probably use them. ('Honey' and 'Hon' are reserved for Haley in this house, sorry kids.)

You just keep watching it over and over again even though you know it can't happen. 

You can't move. The only time you move is when Felix grabs you by the neck, slamming you against the wall. Over and over again. Then he shoots Aaron. And Saskia sees. The way her precious face contorts as she calls Felix 'Dad' to keep him happy. The way she trembles as she tries not to look at anyone in particular. 

And it all happens in no particular order. It could be Saskia, you, Aaron. Aaron, you, Saskia. You, Saskia, Aaron. It doesn't matter. It just keeps happening. And you know it's a dream, but you just can't wake up, and you have to watch over...

And over

And over

And over

And--

You wake, breath rasping in your chest as you try to breathe but it's closer to gasping and hyperventilating. Aaron stirs beside you as you grasp at your chest, closing your eyes as you count--in, 1, 2, 3. Out, 1, 2, 3--he’s up in a moment, hand on your back as he tries to process whatever he’s seeing.

“You’re okay,” he says groggily, and he scrubs at his eyes, then everything seems to click into place. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You try to say no, but you’re still trying to calm down enough to breathe. He leans into you, rubbing your back methodically, and you’re sure he breathes exaggeratedly so you can hear him. You don’t care because it helps. You sit there, matching his breathing, taking his hand in yours and tracing his knuckles until the shaking stops.

“Do you want some water?” Aaron says, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“I’m okay,” you croak. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes, but it’s there again. Aaron, shot, crumpling. Shit, you’re shaking again. 

“No you’re not.” He pushes the covers aside, climbing out the bed. He leaves the room for a moment, even when you protest that you really are fine, then comes back with a glass of water and presses it into your hands as he flicks on the bedside lamp. 

It’s the first time you see him since your dream. Properly. And maybe your lip trembles as you cup his cheek. But it’s not enough and you’re putting your glass down without drinking any of it, and taking his face in your hands, tracing every dip and ridge and wrinkles with your thumbs. He hums quietly, but he doesn’t stop looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, smiling a little. Aaron nuzzles into your hands, placing his hands on your thighs. 

“Of course I’m okay, it was just a dream.” He kisses your hands, resting his chin on your lap. “How often do they happen?”

“It was nothing, Aaron,” you lie, but you keep tracing his forehead where the bullet had gone in so many times. Aaron lets you, then takes your hand and kisses your fingers.

“You’ve got a funny definition of nothing.”

“And you’ve got a funny face, but I still love you.” 

Aaron smirks. “I love you too.”

“It was dumb, it was just a night terror.” You push his hair back, smiling softly as it bounces back. “But you’re okay, and Saskia’s okay, and Felix is never coming back.”

“No, he’s not.” Aaron places a light kiss to your thigh as he sits on the bed beside you and pulls you into his arms. “Nothing’s going to hurt you, not here.”

“Sounds good,” you mumble into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him. “Sounds very, very good.”

“Do you sleep when you’re home?” (you don’t dignify him with a response, because if you do you’re sure it’s just proving him right). “Baby?’”

“You’ve never called me that before.” (he strokes the back of your head, still expecting a response.) “No. Not really. I got the locks changed, twice, I have a new alarm system, and Saskia sleeps in my bed more than I’d care to admit.”

“That’s why you moved your bed? To see Saskia’s room?” 

Sure, you’d moved it. A couple of inches, sure, and you’d taken your nightstand out weeks ago, so it wasn’t like it was an obvious move. One day, you’ll find someone to date who isn’t a profiler or detective, and you can just do things without being profiled or something. 

“Yes, Aaron, that's why I moved my bed,” you respond dryly, on the verge of fed-up-playful. Aaron, however, doesn’t seem to find it all that amusing.

“You can call me, when that happens. You know that.” He presses a long, soft, kiss to your hair.

“We work, what? Week long cases? And I’m going to ring you the moment I get off the plane because I’m scared shitless of walking into an empty house and having someone just… hang out, in my lounge? No thanks.” 

It’s the first time you admit it, truthfully, to anyone. Sure, you’d dropped hints to Emily here and there, and Spencer knows more than he lets on, and Morgan picked up on it during Saskia’s Diagnosis:Murder marathon, and Dave just… well, Dave is Dave, he knows everything. But it’s the first time saying it out loud.

“Babe,” he whispers and pulls you close to him like you can get closer to him. There’s no other words, and if there are, they get caught in his throat, and he rests his chin on your head. 

The room’s eerily silent, but comforting, until you feel tears drop onto your shoulder.

“Aar?” you take his hand in yours, leaning back to look at his face. He doesn’t meet your eyes, but they’re glistening and not in the cute way. You cup his cheeks, wiping his tears away. You blow out a shaky breath. “We should talk.”

***

Aaron places the cup of tea in front of you, then takes a seat across from you at the table. It’s weird to actually be dating someone who doesn’t take ‘we should talk’ as an attack on them, but simply for what it was for. Talking.

“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup in your hands. The warmth is comforting.

“Where do you want to start?” he asks, dipping his teabag. 

Where DO you want to start? There’s too much, and if you don’t start at the right spot it could all snowball. You toy with the lip of your mug and shrug. Aaron reaches out across the table, palm up. You eye it off before placing your hand in his.

“Melissa, Felix, or the Wave?” Aaron says, dragging ‘wave’ up like he’s joined The Beach Boys. 

You think it over, ranking by level of Aaron’s involvement. Felix was your friend, Aaron’s friend, Haley’s friend, you guys were inseparable. Before all of it, you were… the best, perfect, who everyone envied. You loved him, irrevocably, and you rationalised moving on. Because he would have wanted it, and then he just… came back. And not as a good guy. The whole thing must be hard on him too.

Then Melissa, Aaron helped out with her (gosh, was that only this morning), he needs answers for that. You need to GIVE him answers about that, if anything it’s weighing far too heavily on your shoulders.

But the Wave, there’s a conversation you know Aaron’s probably itching to have. He’s always had a strong moral compass, and you’ve just gone and stomped on all of it while telling him that you love him. 

“Felix, Melissa, Wave,” you say, tapping at the mug with each point. 

Aaron nods. “Felix,” he hesitates over saying his name and you squeeze his hand.

And all the thoughts you just had, they leave. Like tiny little birds when their trees disturbed. “I don’t know where to start.”

Aaron sighs. “Neither do I.”

Confession time? Confession time.

“I think… a part of me, somewhere, still loves him.” (That hurts to say, especially sitting across from Aaron, who you love more than anything in the world.) “And if he hadn’t… you know.” You motion in the general direction of Jack’s room. “If he came back, without being an absolute murderous asshat, I’d probably go back to him. But he didn’t, he came back… like he did, I barely had time to process.”

Aaron strokes his thumb over your hand, his eyes trained on your face. You know that look. Even through promises that you’d never profile each other, it’s hard not to. Not when he looks at you like that.

“I’d expect you’d do the same for Haley, if it made her happy. If it made you happy.”

He sniffs, rubs his forehead and nods. 

“I’d expect nothing less,” you say quietly and squeeze his hand. Aaron gives you the weakest smile he possibly can. “But… I don’t know. How… how am I supposed to trust anyone when he just…” you make a dramatic gesture with your free hand. “I know, deep inside, that you’d never do that. Threaten Saskia, try to kill Strauss. And, and, I never think you would. Not even in my worst nightmares, not even if I tried. But then.” You close your eyes, trying not to think about what it’s like when he’s shot.

“That scares you?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“Not that you won’t, it’s that Felix could have so easily killed you. If you’d dropped by, or if--”

“He didn’t,” Aaron whispers. 

“I know.”

“I know this doesn’t help,” Aaron says, squeezing your hand. “But Felix had one hell of a fight to get through you. For a man who littered your house with bullets, he stayed remarkably away from putting one in you. And it would take a lot more than a bullet to stop both of us if we knew Saskia or Jack were in trouble.” You look blandly at Aaron, but there’s a soft smile that ghosts over your lips. “Even right here.” And he presses his index finger to where you’d been stroking.

“Aar, a bullet to the head would stop anyone in their tracks. No matter how hard you wanted to stay alive.”

“Watch me,” he says, more threat than anything. Admittedly, it does make you feel better. 

“Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

He sips at his tea, still watching you intently. 

“What’s next on the itinerary,” you mumble and Aaron squeezes your hand. “Melissa?”

“Melissa,” he confirms. 

You let out the shakiest breath you ever have in your life. “First off, I love you, and any gaps aren’t because I’m hiding something from you.” That way that Aaron looks at you, you really wish you’d never agreed to join the CIA. “She’s the kid of a friend of my mother’s, I think. For a couple of weeks, maybe a couple of months, she’s been around for a while. Someone’s been following her for a couple of months, I think. I don’t know.”

“How’d she find your house?”

“I don’t know. She needed help.” You let go of his hand and push your hair off your face. “Whatever she knows, someone wants her dead because of it.”

“Someone?”

You watch him. Debate it. You know it’s a problem if you tell him. “C.I.A. Agent Reno, at least.” the name means nothing to him but it still feels good to tell him, even if you’ve probably just signed your death warrant.

He leans back in his chair, running his hands over his face. “Jeeeeeesuuuuuus. What’ve got you gotten yourself into?” (Although, admittedly, he looks kind of impressed.) “No, don’t answer that, you can’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. It’s a great opportunity.”

‘Great opportunity’, sure, remembering how Reno had threatened Haley. You’re not going to tell him about that. You just nod and push the chair back from the table, grabbing your tea and sipping at the warm liquid.

“My mom, she looked after Jane.”

“Jane?”

“Melissa’s Mom.” (Aaron nods, somewhat understanding). “Mom did… ran… something good. I mean, really good, with… bad people. Bad people who turned good, I guess.”

“Is that” (he points, referencing to earlier in the conversation) “secret talk?”

“Yes.”

“Got it.” He doesn’t quite look at you, eyes flickering over your face. You know what he’s thinking. Move onto the next bit.

“You’re not okay with me making a deal with serial killers.”

“I’m not.” He nods, coming back to the table. “Our job is to catch them, you know that, and you’re just… dealing with them? Playing their games?”

“One,” you correct, holding a finger up. “I made a deal with one of them.”

“Babe,” he breathes, tilting his head.

“I owe him.”

“You don’t owe a serial killer anything.”

“He shot Felix,” you argue, dropping your eyes to the table. “We hit him with the car, and he didn’t stop, and he was grabbing Saskia, and he wouldn’t stop. So he shot him.”

“Who?” (you shake your head). “Right. Secret.” He looks away, hurt.

“Aar, that’s not fair,” you whimper. 

And he looks back at you. “Sorry.” 

“They’re Mom’s friends. And I don’t know what that means anymore, but I want to learn. And I can’t if I keep them away.”

“What was your mom into?” Aaron chuckles, trying to break the tension.

“Probably a lot more than me.”

He nods, and offers you the tiniest smile. “You’re safe, right? Even with all of this, you’re not going to end up dead in some ditch?”

“I’m safe. Probably the safest out of everyone on the team.”

Maybe there would have been a moment between the two of you, but there’s whimpering coming from Jack’s room, and both of you look at each other with fear that only parents can have. You’re both there in a heartbeat, Jack’s kneeling over Saskia, tapping lightly at her shoulder as Saskia twitches like she’s trying to avoid something. She mumbles something that sounds like ‘i’m not going’ and ‘you’re not him’.

“Hey buddy,” Aaron whispers, grabbing Jack and kissing his cheek as he hands him to you. “You stay with y/n, okay? Saskia’s just having a bad dream.”

“Okay,” Jack says, taking your hand. And, honestly, thank god for Aaron, because you’re completely frozen in place. 

“Saskia,” Aaron whispers, running a hand over her forehead. She starts, torn out of her dream way too fast, and looks around the room. “Hey Sunshine, you’re in Jack’s room.”

‘Sunshine’ you mouth, even though neither of them are looking at you.

“Where’s Jack?” Sakia squeaks, and Aaron moves slightly out of the way so Saskia can see him. She looks far too relieved.

“What’s going on? What was that dream about?” Aaron asks, rubbing her back. Jack yawns and leans into your leg with all his weight. He looks up at you and smiles, motioning that it’s okay for you to go.

You don’t want to, but Jack looks like he’s going to fall asleep where he is, so you pick him up and ask if he wants to sleep in Aaron’s bed. He nods and you kiss his cheek, bringing into Aaron’s room.

You’re in bed, Jack under your arm, when Aaron comes in ten minutes later with Saskia draped over him, practically glowing.

“What’s got you so happy?” you smile, carding your hands through Jack’s hair as Aaron places Saskia in the bed, the two of you wrestling with her grip around Aaron’s neck so she can actually fall into the bed.

“She called me Dad.” (Fuck, he’s glowing. Saskia should have done this earlier.)

He smiles like it’s the best day ever and you reach over, patting his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says, kissing your hand.

“Me too!” Jack pipes up and the whole bed erupts into giggles, even Saskia smiles a little through her faux sleep.

You can handle this for the rest of your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised some Saskia/Jack time, but Mom & Dad talking got out of hand, so next chapter is some unbroke Saskia/Jack time.  
> ~~  
> Aaron Hotchner, to Foyet: I don't make deals with serial killers.  
> Momma: okay but i do   
> ~~  
> concept: The Incredibles, where Jack is Dash and Saskia is Violet.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off! Thank-you to everyone who's read/commented/liked/anything I freaking love you, thank you for coming along for this ride!  
> Second off! As promised, some good kid time.  
> Third! I missed spoopy references, and somehow I ran out of them on day two haha. Sorry.

"R… r… Saski?" The way Jack says Saskia's nickname, each S the strongest 'th' you've ever heard.

"Rochester," Saskia says without hesitation. You inch your eyes open to Saskia and Jack, seated between you and Aaron, Jack with a hardcover copy of Jane Eyre in his lap that's falling off his legs. 

"That's a big book," you smile as you prop yourself up.

Jack nods. "It's got pictures." And he leans the book up so you can see the pictures.

"Wow," you breathe. And it is a wow moment, because you don't think you've ever seen Jane Eyre illustrated IN COLOUR. "That's really pretty." 

"It's Daddy's," Jack tells you. You look over Jack and Saskia, to where Aaron's still sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of the monumental book that’s somehow been carted into the bed. And, somehow, you also had slept through it.

"Are you guys hungry?" You ask and the kids nod in unison. "What're we going to have?"

"Eggs and soldiers," Jack says, and Saskia agrees with him. So you roll yourself out of bed, fixing your pyjamas as Saskia and Jack follow you (more clambering than anything).

Aaron comes out as the eggs are finishing and you're digging around his cupboard for egg cups. He kisses Jack's head, then Saskia's, and leans around you, reaching into the cupboard and grabbing the egg cups that are literally right under your nose.

"Morning," he says, kissing your cheek. "Want some help?"

"You can crack some eggs open while I butter the toast."

Aaron nods, his hand lingering on your back for a little too long. You look at him, smiling as you catch him gazing at you. 

"What're you looking at?" You tease. Aaron gives you the tiniest, most precious, smile and kisses you.

"I'm glad we talked last night."

"Me too." 

Jack and Saskia fill the room with playful 'ooooooooo's and you think you might combust on the spot. "Eggs, before the 'oooo' turns into a tantrum." 

Aaron nods, but he's still grinning at you like you're the best thing that's ever happened. 

"You having some?" Aaron asks when you throw the bread soldiers onto the kid's plates. You're half way through nodding when you look at the eggs and your body practically screams 'no' at you. 

"I'll have toast." 

"Sure?"

You eye off the eggs and nod. "I'm sure."

Breakfast is spent with Aaron trying to explain the plot to Jane Eyre to Jack and Saskia, and the amount of times he stumbled over things because Jack and Saskia interrupted him was far too good. You were too caught up trying not to laugh when Aaron looks to you for help when Saskia and Jack start saying that Jane can find someone better than ‘a man who keeps his wife in the attic’. You think Aaron might melt into the ground and leave you with the two rascals who 110% know they’re just working him up.

Jack and Saskia go to watch cartoons when breakfast is done (not without continuously saying ‘ooo jaaaaaane’ because they’d started saying it whenever Aaron said ‘Jane’, which is a lot trying to explain the plot of JANE Eyre). 

“I didn’t know you liked Jane Eyre,” you tease, dropping the plates into the soapy water. 

“Surprise?” He smiles awkwardly and you rub his back.

“It’s cute.”

“It’s a book.” He has the cutest way of looking away from you to hide how embarrassed he is. 

“It’s a good book.” You lean up, kiss his jaw, then grab a tea towel and shake it out. 

Which is apparently a calling for your daughter, because she practically launches herself into the kitchen and snatches it from you. 

“I’m helping Dad,” she says forcefully and then points in the direction of the couch. “Go watch Bindi the Jungle Girl.” (yes, you think, I did indeed raise this child). 

“Yes ma’am,” you smile and, fuck, is Aaron trying not to beam. You squeeze Aaron’s bum and kiss his neck as you pass. “Have fun, Daddy.” (And boy, does he glare, but his smile really downplays that glare).

Jack tries to be every animal he sees on screen, which is beyond endearing. He climbs over you, then the back of the couch, and when Aaron leans over the back of the couch to ask if Jack wants to go to the park Jack extends his arms and snaps, telling Aaron that ‘crocodiles always want to go to the park’. 

“Crocodiles have to put shoes and socks on,” Aaron says, ruffling Jack’s hair, and the crocodile runs away, still snapping at the air. Saskia follows him with a string of words you’re not sure works as a sentence but it makes Jack laugh.

“Haley’s coming after lunch,” Aaron says as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You rest your hands on his wrists and lean your head back to look up at him. “She’s so hung over.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you laugh. “Nights off are few and far between, and when you do, you’d better bet we enjoy ourselves.”

“When was the last time you had a night off?”

“Uh, last night.”

“That wasn’t a night off,” Aaron says into your hair and you shrug. He squeezes you tightly and then Jack and Saskia are bounding out, armed with their shoes and one soft toy each because it’s ‘better to play together’. 

Saskia and Jack race each other the entire way. Aaron chuckles when Saskia tries so, so, so, so hard to be slower than Jack. At the park Saskia’s at his side every step of the way. On the slide, climbing frame, monkey bars (that one was stressful to watch, you’re not going to lie. You and Aaron both hover far too close when Saskia hauls herself onto the top of the monkey bars and then hangs upside down to pull Jack up with her. You would have been impressed if you hadn’t been mentally playing out how long it would take to get Jack to the hospital if it all went south).

Aaron takes a phonecall from Strauss (nothing important, he assures you) and comes back ten minutes later with coffee for the two of you. You inhale the steam, watching as Saskia tries to get Jack onto the platform because they’re playing ‘the floor is lava’ but Saskia’s been counting down from five for far longer than five. (You’re pretty sure she’s been on ‘1 quarter’ for 5 counts by now).

“I didn’t get to say it last night,” Aaron says, just for the two of you as he takes your hand. “Our job, it’s to catch the bad guys.” (You keep your eyes trained on Saskia and Jack, refusing to look at him.) “And a part of me doesn’t want to think that sometimes, just sometimes, the lines get blurred because it helps me to sleep at night thinking everything is black and white. 

“Everything used to be so clear cut,” he continues. “But Felix wasn’t clear cut. And the last couple of cases haven’t been clear cut. And… I trust you.”

“Aar?”

“I trust you, and your judgement, and I know you would never, ever, put Saskia in danger. Ever. And you’d also never put anyone else in danger, you’d never make an… a pact with a serial killer if it meant other people were dying.” He squeezes your hand, chugs some of his coffee, and you know he’s looking at you. “What I’m trying to say, is that I trust you, I trust whatever decision you’ve made, and I love you.”

You turn to him, meeting his eyes that are completely glossed over. 

“I love you too. Thank-you.”

He leans into you, kissing you lightly, interrupted only by Saskia yelling “stop! We’re in public!” which makes Aaron laugh. 

“We’re in public,” Aaron murmurs against your lips, imitating a faux air of surprise. 

“I had no idea,” you respond, pulling away from him and resting your head on his shoulder. You squeeze his hand as Saskia waves to you both. “I hope it’s okay Saskia calls you dad.”

“Of course it is,” he says, putting his cheek on your own head. “I think you both had the same night terror.”

“She’s got a therapist appointment tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

****

Haley comes over just as Jack’s finishing his sandwich, and it’s a mad rush to get him to wash his hands and face AND pick up his toys. Haley looks like she’s in a foul mood until you answer the door, and she forces a smile on her face when you give her one.

“You stayed the night?” she asks. She’s trying so hard to keep her voice neutral.

“Uh, yeah.” You drop your eyes because, as okay as she says she is with the two of you being together, there are some situations that are simply awkward. 

“You look like shit.”

“Saskia had a rough night.”

Haley purses her lips, crosses her arms and just looks at you. “So did you.” You shake your head and offer her the weakest smile you possibly can. “And not because you were having fun.”

“Nope,” you say and step aside. “Wanna come in?”

She nods, but hangs pretty close to the door, clutching at her handbag. Her eyes wander over the room, no doubt taking in how lifeless his apartment looks.

“It’s pretty bleak, huh?” you whisper, and Haley chuckles. 

“Pretty bleak, indeed.”

Jack comes charging through the room, launching himself over the back of the lounge like he’s superman and flying into Haley’s arms. Haley stumbles and you immediately have a hand against her back to stop her slamming into the wall. 

“We went to the park!” Jack says, not using his inside voice at all.

“No way!” Haley gasps. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!”

“Aaron,” Haley says flatly as he comes into the lounge.

“Haley.”

“Jack,” Jack pipes up and there’s a soft chuckle that radiates around the room from everyone. “Where’s Saski?”

“She’s coming,” Aaron says and his phone rings for the second time that day. “It’s Morgan.”

“Yeah, take it,” you smile, and Aaron disappears into his bedroom.

Haley drops Jack to the ground as he insists on saying goodbye to Saskia. He shoves his lavender scented bear into your hands, the sudden wave of scent hitting you square in the sinuses and you pass it to Haley as you try to swallow the nausea. Haley cocks her head at you and clears her throat.

“What?” you say, crossing your arms defensively. Haley taps the back of your hand and you frown at her, then it dawns on you, what Haley’s saying. “I’m not… I’m not preg-- I’m just stressed, Hales.” but you’re counting the days since your last period on your hands, and you’re not sure you can even remember when the last one was. “Maybe. Maybe I am.” 

You’re not sure what your body’s response is. Horror? Relief? Excitement?

“Do you want me to bring a test? Tonight?”

You frown. Haley or Aaron. Haley. It was always Haley, it was Haley with Saskia, it can be Haley this time. And then if you are, you can always surprise Aaron. Or do another one. You nod, not saying a single thing, because now you’re shit nervous.

Properly. Nervous. 

“I’ll drop by at seven?” Haley says as Jack comes back, swinging Saskia’s arm so hard you think it might go around like a windmill.

“Yeah. Seven. What do you want for dinner?”

Haley pushes Jack’s hair back and hauls him into her arms. “Anything.”

“Anything but pizza.”

“Deal.”

***

“Hales,” you say as you pull the door open. She produces the pharmacy bag as Jack barrels down the hallway to where Saskia’s playing her with LPS.

“I come bearing gifts,” she says proudly, shaking the bag. You eye it off then snatch it from her.

“Thanks,” you smile and throw it into your room. “Later. There’s ham and pasta bake waiting for us, and Saskia’s going to kill someone if she waits any longer.” 

Saskia and Jack settle down after dinner to watch Madagascar, even though the two of them know the words off by heart, with the live action Thunderbirds in the line up for straight after because it’s not a school night and you and Haley have no backbone when Jack and Saskia bat their eyelashes at the two of you.

Which is how you come to be standing in your room, tapping the pregnancy test against your fingers, as Haley sits cross legged on your bed.

“You actually have to do it to get the answer,” Haley says, resting her chin on her hands. “It doesn’t just pick up on nervous energy.”

“I wish it would.”

“Go,” Haley says, shooing you away. 

And you do, shoving the completed test in the cupboard so you don’t keep looking at it and wind the timer. Haley drum rolls the bed as you come back, jumping on the mattress. 

“Nervous?” she asks as you collapse across from her.

“Yeah.”

“How about we ignore the whole ex-husband thing for a moment,” Haley says, blowing out her cheeks. “Why’re you nervous?”

You hold out your hand and count them off on your fingers. “We haven’t discussed it yet. I like my job. It’s another kid. We haven’t discussed it. We don’t live together, nor have we even broached the subject of living together, and, oh, we haven’t discussed it.”

“I find it hard to believe that Aaron, of all people, hasn’t talked about babies,” Haley says, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. 

“In a perfect, hypothetical, world conversation, sure. But not real, messy, world.”

Haley rolls her eyes. “Fuck you two are perfect for each other. You’re the only two people in the whole world who would have the same conversation twice for different contexts.”

“Hales,” you say, trying to look at her seriously but you smile a little.

“Do you not want another kid, or are you nervous about having another kid?” (you glare at her, but she’s right). “Because I remember having this conversation before you found out about Saskia.” She takes your hands in hers, squeezing lightly.

“Nervous,” you confess. “About all of it.”

“Did it work out in your perfect, hypothetical world?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Then Aaron will find a way to make it work now, and you will too. I know that.”

You look at her, with all the hurt in her eyes that she’s trying not to show. You give her a tight lipped smile before hugging her.

“I’m so sorry Hales,” you mumble into her shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter,” she responds as she sniffs. “I’m happy now, happier than I was at the end. And you’re happy, look at you.”

“It does matter, it always matters.” You cup her cheeks, squeezing them until she pulls a face at you. “It matters because you’re my best friend, and the most marvellous person in the world.”

“I should be telling you that.”

The timer goes off and you both listen to it ring out.

“Are you going to get it?” Haley asks. 

“Can it just stay there, and I live in ignorant bliss for the rest of my life?”

“No.”

“I hate you.” You get up, go to the bathroom, pick it out of your cupboard without looking at it, come back to Haley and put it between the two of you, hands over it so neither of you can peak. “Positive or negative, this doesn’t change anything, right?”

“Doesn’t change a damn thing,” Haley whispers. “Except, if it’s positive, I’m draining my bank account for that little pumpkin.”

You nod, heart racing as you pull your hands away. One line, no pair. Your heart plummets, and Haley reaches out and squeezes your knee.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Haley whispers, and she’s throwing the test towards your wastepaper basket and pulls you into a hug. 

It feels dumb to cry, when really your life hasn’t changed anymore than it had been a few moments before. But you do, just enough to get it out of your system. Haley wipes your cheeks when you pull away, giving you the kindest smile you’ve seen in forever.

“There are two beautiful children out there,” Haley whispers, “who thought they’d always be single children, who’ve somehow found themselves to be tough as shit siblings. Which is more than we would have ever dreamed in highschool. Right now, they’re all we need. Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“You’ll talk about it, with Aaron.”

“Promise.”

“Second thing?’

“Hales,” you whine, but she extends her pinkie and you have to take it.

“When my ex-husband finally knocks you up, you tell me first, then him.” (You roll your eyes, but Haley has your pinkie in a death grip.) “Shake on it, y/n.”

So you shake. “Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~ my babiessss I love themmm ~~  
> [also, yes, Jack calls Saskia 'Saski', you read that right and it's not a spelling error]  
> [cups hands and screams: We have Saskia's birthday, a night off, and then VEGAS BITCHES we're getting BACK ON THAT CANON TRAIN]


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~we're dipping our toes, quietly, into Saskia's birthday party~

It is to be known by all around you that you have raised a monster.

A monster who ate the entire bag of gummy bears in one go. Probably, in less than two minutes. Even after you told Morgan not to buy her candy. But he’s Uncle Derek, and he’s the cool Uncle, and he can do whatever he wants because there’s never going to be any real repercussions for doing it. 

So now she’s racing her best friend in the backyard, with the ‘blindfold’ (it’s one of your scarves) from pin the tail on the donkey tied over her forehead, while wielding her new lightsaber above her head. That sugar crash is going to be a nightmare to deal with. 

Saskia insisted on inviting ‘all your work friends’ to her birthday party, and honestly you think it was just so she could watch them all beat the shit out of the pinata. She’d only invited four friends (Emily Fornell--or, ‘mini Emi’, because Prentiss kept responding to “Emily”, Nathan, Alannah and Hanna) all of which had parents in some kind of emergency responder job. Mini Emi’s dad’s an undercover agent at the DC field office, Nathan’s Mom’s a tech analyst for OSI (she’s bonded with Garcia), both of Alannah’s parents are street cops, and Hanna’s Mom’s a paramedic. You’re not sure how they’ve all bonded together, or even found each other, but it’s the best bunch of kids you’ve seen in a long time.

Your house is covered in the confetti Reid had stuff in the pinata, which had made a perfect explosion that looked beautiful (and probably even more so in the pictures JJ had taken) but man, was it going to be hell to sweep up. You’ll probably be finding little pieces of tissue paper and glitter in your sofa cushions for months. 

Aaron’s done the rounds of asking who wants tea and coffee without being asked, and you think it’s just because he needs to spend time away from the kids and adults. Or because Spence needed time out, ‘cause Aaron’s handing him tea bags and mugs in silence and Spence is setting them out in a neat little row, handles at the same angle. You watch him drop the tea bag tags in the same spot, over and over again, and can’t help but smile.

Dave comes up behind you, hands clasped behind his back. He’d gotten Saskia a hand crafted snowglobe, a gorgeous figure of Belle and the Beast mid-dance. When you wind it, it plays ‘Tale as old as time’. You’ve already told Dave it’s too much, but he’s determined it’s just a menial gift. And Saskia loves it so you’re not going to make him take it back.

“It’s a nice little gathering,” Dave says. “And yet you haven’t talked to any of the parents.”

“Don’t profile me, David.”

“I’m just saying that you keep watching Hotch, even in a room full of people you could schmooze in your sleep.”

“You go schmooze them,” you respond with a huff, trying to look anywhere but Aaron (which is hard, because he looks so damn cute in that shirt).

“They’re a little too young for my liking.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course they are. Wouldn’t that make the wedding so much more interesting?” 

Dave laughs at you, but you’re not even wrong. If you have attend one more of his weddings you might actually die, so at least one of them could have surprise strippers or something.

“Wedding?” Aaron asks as he hands you your tea.

“Dave’s future wedding to someone young,” you say dreamily and Dave pulls a face at you. “How’s Spence doing?”

“He just needed a moment,” Aaron says into your temple, kissing it lightly. “He’s in your office, lining your books up as we speak.”

“Poor thing,” you respond as you lean into him.

Dave rolls his eyes. “Might get started on wife number five,” he says, slipping away from the two of you and to where Morgan’s chatting up Hanna’s Mom. 

Aaron tugs your hand. “I want to give you something.”

“Now?” you say, looking back at parents and kids around your house. But Aaron’s nodding, eyes wide, like a puppy. 

“Now, the team’s got it,” and he tugs you once more, leading you to your room. He pushes you onto your bay window seat, disappearing into your closet, and coming back out with an envelope. You’re not even sure how it got in there, but you suppose it wouldn’t have been weird if Aaron had ducked into your room earlier in the day.

“Baby,” he says, dropping to his knees in front of you and leaning into you. “You’re not allowed to turn these down, because Morgan, Dave, Reid and I all split them.” And he presses the envelope into your hands. Picking out another from under the cushions you’re on. “This, you can’t turn down either, it’s from me and Haley for you and Saskia.”

“Which one do I open first?” you ask, weighing them in your hands.

“You choose.” He looks at you with big, wide, eyes. “Really, it’s your choice.”

“This one was hidden better, she can go first,” you say, putting down the envelope for you and Saskia, and tearing away at the envelope the boys had all split. Inside is a chunky wad of what looks like theatre tickets, and you squint at him, pulling them out.

They are, indeed, theatre tickets. But something better than theatre tickets, ballet tickets. To Cinderella. You were supposed to go to one back in highschool, the night Aaron had broken his leg climbing in through your bathroom window to hang out with Haley. You’d never been able to get a ticket to make up for it after that. You’d always been too busy. There’s four tickets.

“Aaron, this is a lot of money,” you whisper and he nods.

“You’re not allowed to turn it down. It’s for your night off. Dave said you should bring the girls, hence we split it.”

“I love you,” you breathe, pressing them to your chest.

“Mhmm, mhmm, open the next one.”

“Okay Impatient,” you tease, pushing his hair back. You put the tickets back in the envelope, placing them carefully beside you, then take the next one. You flip it over in your hand, admiring the golden wax seal that’s Haley’s doing. You slide your nail underneath the wax, praying you don’t break it, and smile when you manage to open it without disturbing it.

Saskia will absolutely scream when she sees it. Two tickets to Swan Lake on Ice. She’s been drooling over it ever since she saw it on TV.

“You guys didn’t have to do this,” you whisper and Aaron smiles at you.

“But we did.” He pushes himself up, cupping your face and kissing you. “You deserve it, okay?”

“Okay,” you pout, squeezing his shoulders so he’s flush with you and kissing him for all he’s worth. “When the party’s over, I’m going to repay you.”

“You don’t have to,” Aaron says modestly. 

You nip at his neck, then pull away and climb off the window seat, grabbing the two envelopes.

“Not with money, honey.”

Aaron looks at you, dumb struck, and makes a tiny little “oh”, and that’s how you leave him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~The one where Saskia and Aaron keep secrets, because they're a team~

Paperwork ran late, but it doesn't matter because you and the girls brought all your stuff with you. So you're all meeting in the bullpen, dressed in your best evening wear. 

Garcia is a walking ball of sunshine, in a stunning red and yellow dress that you're sure she bought just to match the aggressively red and yellow teapot earrings Saskia had made her. JJ's got the cutest sky blue maternity dress on with a throw over her shoulders that looks like a cape, and oh boy does she look like she's glowing. Prentiss looks like she's Morticia Addams, but she's pulling it off and you're impressed. (okay, you’re beyond impressed, because she’s fucking gorgeous and teenage you is quaking). 

You knew that Aaron and Saskia were up to something this morning. Saskia had had a notable interest in what shoes you were bringing (she told you off for choosing ‘THOSE’ shoes and you have to bring ‘THESE’ ones) and then Aaron rang just as you were leaving to ask which shoes you had. For an FBI agent, and a damn good profiler, he’s pretty bad at being sneaky. But bless him. 

Aaron had found a dress that’s eerily similar to the one you’d wanted to wear the first time, if a little more grown up. And by the low whistle Morgan gives you, Aaron made a good decision. You know he did, you couldn’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror as you got ready, but to have that confirmation from Morgan was everything.

“If the big boss man wasn’t in love with you, I might say something vulgar,” Morgan says, his arm wrapped around Garcia’s waist. 

“It’s never stopped you before,” you smile sweetly as you drop your clutch on your desk and grab out your little box, slipping on your earrings. Everyone in the bullpen laughs quietly, and Morgan just looks at you like you’ve spurted blasphemy. 

“Ready?” you ask, looking to your new theatre companions. 

“Hell yes,” Emily beams. 

Saskia comes skipping down the stairs, her visitor badge pinned proudly to her chest. And you want to say that you’re surprised that she’s here, instead of at home, but you’re not. Not with Aaron coming out behind her, looking just as proud of himself. 

“You look beautiful,” Aaron smiles as Saskia bowls into you, wrapping her arms around you and squeezing tightly. You drop a kiss to her head and run your fingers through her hair.

“Thank-you,” you smile back and the entire team share a look, then meander towards the elevators--slower than usual, so they can all eavesdrop you’re sure. “What’re Trouble and Trouble going to get up to tonight?”

Saskia looks at you with big eyes that really do earn her the name ‘Trouble’, then she looks at Aaron, who cocks his head at her and raises his eyebrows because, he too, is proving that he earns the name ‘Trouble’. 

“Not saying,” Saskia says, pressing her finger to her lips. Aaron shrugs, also pressing his finger to his lips and you ignore the team with their little comments. 

“Go have fun,” Aaron says, cupping your cheek. “Take a night off, and stop worrying.” 

“But I always worry,” you pout, and Saskia’s squirming out from between you and Aaron because she’s just seen JJ and wants to tell her how pretty she is.

“Saskia’s going to be fine,” Aaron whispers. “You look beautiful.”

“You already said that,” you whisper back with a tiny, tiny smirk. 

“It’s still true.” He gives you a light kiss, cupping the back of your head, before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours. And for a moment, it’s just the two of you. No chattering from the team. No external factors.

“I have to go,” you whisper against his lips. “Be good, okay?”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“No hospital trips.”

“Agreed.” 

You squint at him, then hold out your hand. “Shake on it.”

He rolls his eyes, but he shakes on it anyway. Strong, and fierce, and it makes you fall in love a thousand times over because you know he means it. “I’ll see you at home.”

***

You’re walking on clouds when the night ends. 

The ballet had been incredible, and then the four of you ended up getting milkshakes and drinking them at some lookout you’d never been to before (Prentiss had found it before one of her hikes with Morgan). You’re all sitting on the bonnet of your car, JJ’s legs over your lap, her back against Garcia’s arm.

“Are you excited to meet your little guy?” you ask JJ, resting your milkshake against her ankles because she’s been complaining about how much they hurt all day. 

“There’s so much I haven’t done,” JJ laughs, but there’s a nervous squeak in her voice. 

“There’s always stuff you haven’t done,” you reassure her. “But, trust me, you’ve got everything you need. And more.” You poke Garcia and she jumps, but she’s proud of herself. You’re pretty sure Garcia’s spent more money on JJ’s unborn baby in the last three months than you spend on Saskia in a year. 

“Yeah, I’m excited.” Then she looks at Prentiss and you know exactly what’s coming because Emily gives this look to her, then at you, and then--then--at Garcia. You hide your face behind your hand when Emily clears her throat. 

“So, you and Hotch,” Emily drags it out and you know you’ve gone embarrassingly warm. “Have you discussed it yet?” 

“Discussed what?” Garcia says, moving so fast JJ almost falls. 

“Discussed nothing,” you mumble but the three of them have latched on like parasites. 

“Hotchlettes,” Emily says.

“Hotchlings,” JJ adds. 

“Nothing,” you groan. 

But Garcia’s clasping her hands together and looking at you like you’ve given her the best news known to humankind. Of course she would.

“Really?” Garcia squeals.

“No, we haven’t,” you say, pulling a face at Emily. “It hasn’t been three months, has it, Emily?” (Gosh, you shouldn’t have said that, because Garcia’s suddenly all over it).

“You guys put dates on important conversations? That’s so cute!” Only Garcia would think that it was cute.

“She has a three month rule on making big decisions,” Prentiss quotes verbatim. You fight the impulse to squirm at the thought that she genuinely would have heard your comment about inviting her to join the two of you.

“Any choice that can be made on impulse,” you half correct, “has a three month rule on discussing it unless your life is in the balance.”

“Where’d that come from?” JJ asks softly. “I don’t think you’ve taken three months to make any decision at the BAU.”

“Sometimes things just” (Emily clicks her fingers) “fall through the cracks.”

“Em,” you say softly, and almost warningly. But she’s grinning at you.

“Those walls were thin,” she says, holding her hands up defensively. “It’s not my fault.”

You wish the car would drag you into its depths, maybe make you part of the interior, rather than live with the knowledge that Emily heard all of it. All of it. She’s far to smug about it and you know she’s going to use it as blackmail for the rest of your life.

“And what exactly did you hear?” JJ teases. 

And you think, for a second, Emily’s going to say something and make you relive that whole night. She’s got that shocked face that always happens when she’s stumped.

“Nothing exciting,” she says at last. You literally feel the relief flow through your body. “Just some really gushy conversations. They’re actually really precious together.”

“Thanks, Em,” you say, poking your tongue out at her. But it’s all in good fun.

“But would you have little Hotchlings?” Garcia says, slurping at her milkshake. “Because they would look precious. Could you imagine?”

“They would,” JJ agrees.

“Stop,” you laugh. “Maybe, though. I’d have to leave the BAU, and right now isn’t exactly the most brilliant time to pack up my stuff and flitter into the atmosphere or something.”

“Flitter into the atmosphere?” JJ laughs. 

“You wouldn’t have to leave,” Garcia says, motioning to JJ. Technically she’s right.

“I think Aaron and I are flying under Strauss’s radar because we don’t show it in the office, but… I mean, anything further, and I think she might come into his office and spontaneously combust.”

“I would pay to see that,” Emily says dreamily. “It would so be worth it.”

“I could get you a job anywhere you want,” Garcia offers. “It’s not like Strauss would blackmail you out of every job ever available.”

“Thanks, Pen,” you smile at her and lean over to rub her arm. “I’d have job offers coming out of my ears if I needed them, the field office in DC asks for me at least twice a week, and I’m pretty sure the director tried to butter me up a couple of months ago, but this time last year I was pretty sure I was never going back to the FBI. Maybe a desk job, but I wasn’t going to come back. And I kind of like it here.”

“Kind of?” JJ says, nudging your leg.

“Kind of, a lot,” you correct. “You’ve all kind of grown on me. Like barnacles.”

“Would you take barnacles to the ballet with you?” Emily says, clutching at her chest.

“I just did.” (and you blow her a kiss to make sure she knows you’re joking). “Thanks for coming with me, girlies. It was really nice.”

“We should be thanking you for letting us come along,” JJ responds, handing her unfinished milkshake to Garcia who gladly finishes it.

“If we’re going down that rabbithole, you should be thanking Aaron for breaking his leg when I went to watch it the first time, and dad ended up grounding me. And he seemed to have a guilty conscious about it the other day, because here we are.”

“Morgan said it was because you needed a night off,” Garcia says, tapping at her milkshake. “He thought Hotch was being sweet.”

“He’s very sweet,” you agree, nodding slowly. 

“Is it weird, calling him Aaron and Hotch? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you slip up at work,” JJ asks.

“Jayje, I slip up all the time. Most of the time I just don’t use his name, to be honest, and then I can’t slip.”

“Don’t use his name?” Emily prompts.

You make a humming noise that somewhat imitates ‘Hotch’, wave your hand, and smile at her. “There’s those two, or I just squeeze his hand or throw a file at him.”

“Huh,” Emily says quietly. “Why have I never noticed that?”

“Because you’re all too busy hoping he doesn’t snap.”

“Fair.”

The four of you stay at the lookout for hours before you all get in your cars and go home. It’s a little reluctant, because the night’s been so nice, but you’re all tired, and there’s no work tomorrow (not unless a case gets called in, god forbid) so you all decide 2am is late enough for you all.

You struggle with the lock on your door, trying to be quiet because you’re sure Saskia and Aaron are both asleep. You get it open, taking off your shoes before you come inside. Tiptoeing into your room you put your keys in your handbag and drop your shoes by the door.

“Did you have fun?” Aaron whispers, flicking on the single lamp you have left beside your bed. You jump a little, nodding.

“Everything was so pretty,” you breathe, padding across the floor between you and kissing him. “Did you and Saskia stay out of trouble?”

“We live and breathe trouble, babe,” Aaron smiles as he grabs your hips and tugs you into his lap. “But it was a good night?”

“Amazing,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “The costumes were gorgeous, the dancing was incredible, and you should have heard Pen and Jayje and Em, they were all so in love.”

“Sounds like you’re in love.”

You trace a fingernail over his cheek, watching as he smiles softly and leans into it. “I am,” you whisper, tipping his chin up to you. You stay tantalizingly close to him before closing the gap. He moans into your mouth as you push him against the bed, lips never parting as you straddle him, pulling your skirts up around your waist.

You paw at his shirt while his hands wander up your sides, sneaking around your back, tracing the zipper down your back without actually unzipping it. You part to pull his shirt over his head, and to check that you closed your door, then you’re both awkwardly maneuvering to pull your stockings off, and Aaron’s trying to get his sweatpants off without knocking anything over.

Soon you’re straddling Aaron as he pulls your zipper down, pressing kisses to your chest as his fingers graze against your skin. You mouth at his neck, grinding against him and smiling as his hands falter for a moment, and he moans into your ear.

“Look at you,” you say softly, rolling your hips, hands coming to his face. He smiles just as softly back. “So precious.”

“And all yours.” He pulls you into him, kissing you as he finally gets your zipper the whole way down and pulls the dress over your head. It gets dropped somewhere on your floor, and you’re sure you’ll regret it later.

Aaron guides you onto him, watching you intently as you adjust to him. He whispers soft words of encouragement, running his hands through your hair. When you’re fully seated on him you drop your head into his neck, breathing him in. 

“You okay?” Aaron whispers, running his teeth over the shell of your ear. You nod, placing your hands on his stomach, before he’s got his hands on your hips and he’s guiding you up and down methodically until you’re both breathing shallowly, trying desperately to stay quiet. 

“I’ve got you,” he says into your neck, fingers circling your clit.

“Aar,” you moan, changing position slightly, and Aaron’s moan hits that higher octave that you know is just reserved for moments like this, no one else but you. And that exact thought is what sends you over the edge, followed closely by Aaron.

You stay there, boneless, until you both catch your breath. Then you climb off him, tracing your hand over his chest.

“Shower, then sleep,” you whisper and Aaron groans at you, but he doesn’t disagree.

***

You tie your hair up as you get out the shower, leaving Aaron even though he looks like he’s about to pass out. You prop your door open, then check on Saskia. She’s monkey gripped around Haley’s bear and you realise that you never returned it to her. You tiptoe across the room, kneeling next to Saskia’s bed just to watch her sleep. She looks so calm, precious. 

You kiss her forehead when Aaron leans up against the doorframe, looking at you with all the softness a muscled man can muster.

When you’re both in bed Aaron looks like he’s debating something, then he turns to your night stand and goes through your drawer.

“Aar?” you ask, turning on your side to look at him.

“I know now isn’t the time,” he says and your heads immediately whirring with what he could possibly want. “But, honestly, there isn’t really a good time to do any of this--”

“Aar?” you repeat, sitting up, eyebrows furrowing. 

“I, uh, um,” and he’s stuttering like you’ve never heard him stutter before. “Do… do you think, maybe, that you’d want to… make me the happiest man in the world, and maybe marry me? For no more secrets?”

And he pops open a box, with the most beautiful emerald ring glistening at you. You gasp a little, heart and mind racing. Because, yes, of course, yes, but then--

“Ask me again,” you breathe, sitting cross legged and turning, looking at him face to face. “Without the maybe, and I’ll say yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!~  
> rip this took forever to write today haha


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> start of 4x06 here we come baybeee ('The Instincts' and it's following episode are literally what inspired this ENTIRE SPIEL of fanfic rip)

Aaron takes a while to process what you've said, or at least a while for Aaron. Probably to his detriment, because, you too, have time to process exactly what he said. 

"Wait, Aar," you whisper, putting your hand over his. "No more secrets? Sweetie, if we're going to do this it's because we want to, not because… just, not because."

God, the look he gives you. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted rolled into the sweetest, most compassionate look ever. Ever. He leans forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you to him, the ring momentarily forgotten.

“I want to, really, secrets or no.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I know there are things neither of us are ever going to be able to share, because of our jobs, but there are things we can share.”

“That’s very sweet,” you whisper, taking his face in your hands. “But I need to know that you’re asking me to marry you just because you love me, and want me, and want to do this, not because you’re itching to know what I can’t legally tell you.”

“I love you, and I want to marry you because I love this. Us, being with you, sharing my life with you, and Saskia.” He nuzzles into your wrist, placing a soft kiss to it. “And I know circumstances aren’t exactly conventional, but I’m not doing this to quench my insatiable need to know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, but it could help explain what’s going to land on your desk in the morning.”

“One, you’re adorable. Two, conventional circumstances? Three” (Aaron rolls his eyes and chuckles) “insatiable? Have you been eating a dictionary for dinner?”

“Are you done?” Aaron asks, squeezing your hips.

“Wait, there’s a fourth one. What’s going to land on my desk in the morning?”

“Can I answer now?” He kisses your nose, pulling you closer as if you could get any closer. You bite your lip, trying not to grin at him, and nod eagerly. “Okay, so, one: thank you. Two: Baby, you’re best friend’s with my ex-wife, how much more ‘unconventional’ do you want?” (You lace your hands around the back of his head, hair sticking up between your fingers) “Three: insatiable.” (He kisses you quickly) “Four: it’s a surprise, but it’s going to help get Agent Reno.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “What do you know about Agent Reno?”

“Nothing. I just authorised the files your dad wanted to magically turn up.”

Humming, you drag your hands back to his face, squeezing his cheeks. “Look at you, all precious. I love you a thousand times over.” You bounce slightly in his lap, letting your smile break across your face. “Okay, ask me again.” 

“Baby, will you make me the happiest man in the entire world,” (he fishes around between the two of you, producing the box once more and pops it open) “and marry me?”

“Aaron Hotchner,” you breathe, trying mighty hard not to just kiss him without saying yes. “I would happily make you the happiest man in the world, because you make me the happiest woman in existence.”

“Is that a yes?” he smirks.

“Yes, numpty. Yes, a thousand times over.”

You’re not sure when you started crying, but you are as Aaron slips it onto your finger. He wipes your cheeks, kissing them as you wrap yourself around him, eyes never leaving your ring as you twist and turn your hand in the lamp light. It’s an oval emerald, encompassed by tiny diamonds, and beyond anything…

“Aar, this is the most beautiful ring I’ve seen in my life.”

“Saskia helped me choose it,” he says into your neck. Then he hums like he’s forgotten something. “Your dad said you don’t like wearing rings on your fingers in the field, so, uh, I got you a chain as well. To put it on.”

Precious, precious, soul. “I love you.”

“I know,” he chuckles as you pull back from him, taking his face in your hands once more. “We’ll have to clear it with Strauss, but I figure we’ve got some time.”

“And we’ll have to tell the team, too. But right now can this just be the two of us? They know everything before they’re told. Plus, there’s a whole lot of people who’d want to hear it and I don’t think they’ll be able to keep it to themselves.”

“Anything you want,” he smiles, looking at you with those big, precious, molten chocolate eyes. “Anything you want, Baby.”

“Anything?” you murmur against his lips, and he closes the distance, lips crashing against yours with all the passion he can muster for--four in the morning. “Aar, we have work tomorrow,” you say, pulling back.

He turns his head, following your gaze to the clock and groans. “Actually we have work today. In three hours.”

“You have to be in at seven?” 

“I do. Budget meetings.”

“Gross,” you kiss his nose then soothe his eyebrows. “I do not envy you.”

“I don’t envy me either.”

You gasp dramatically, clutching at your chest. “You should, he has a really hot fiancee.”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Rumour mill.”

“Hmm,” he says, pulling you down to the mattress with him. “I’ll have to check her out in the morning.”

“Tell me if the rumours are true,” you mumble.

And even though you’re buzzing, you’re pretty much asleep when Aaron pulls the covers over the two of you.

***

05:00   
text from: Haley Babey.  
!!!!!!!!!!!

05:02  
Text from: Haley Babey  
Good morning

05:02  
Text from: Haley Babey  
Green with envy.

“Is it JJ?” Aaron mumbles into your hair as you wiggle out of his hold, feeling around for your phone. You squint at it as you turn on the screen.

05:03  
Haley Babey  
Jack can’t keep secrets.

“It’s Hales, go back to sleep.”

“Everything okay?” and he’s sitting up groggily, rubbing at his eyes. You press a hand to his chest, pushing him back onto the mattress.

“Everything’s fine,” you murmur, falling into his side and snuggling into him. “Jack can’t keep secrets.”

Aaron half-laughs-half-yawns, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. You flex your hand, admiring the ring.

“I have pretty bling,” you smile.

“Yes you do,” he says, kissing your hair. 

“When do you have to leave?” 

He sighs, squeezing your shoulders. “Twenty past six. I left a suit in your wardrobe.”

And thank god he did, because there’s no way you’re letting him out of your bed until the very last moment. Saskia sneaks into your room at six, wedging herself between you and Aaron, taking your hand immediately.

“I told you it’s the prettiest one,” Saskia says matter-of-factly. 

“Yes you did,” Aaron responds, kissing her temple. “Mom likes it.”

Saskia snaps her head to you, then she’s smiling brightly. “Really?”

“Yes?” you laugh and Saskia hugs you tight. 

The alarm goes off and Aaron groans as he slams it off, gets out of bed, grabs his suit and heads to the shower. Saskia rolls her eyes, and you’re not sure why, until she messes with her hair, blows out her cheeks (obviously having watched you and Haley) and says:

“He has to put on his serious face now.”

“Yes he does,” you laugh, squeezing her. “Where do you want to have breakfast?”

“Really? No toast?”

You wiggle your fingers, showing her the ring. “No toast.”

***

You turn up to the office with your ring nestled safely under your shirt, brandishing a box of breakfast sweets that Saskia picked out by hand. Spencer claps excitedly when he sees you, making grabby hands for the box.

“You should go to the ballet more often,” he tells you as he plucks his favourite from the box. “I’ve never seen you in such a good mood. Oh, also,” (and he takes a mouthful of food and you can’t find it in yourself to tell him not to speak with his mouth full) “a bunch of files turned up at your desk? They look important.”

“Mmmm, they are, thank-you,” you put the box on his desk. “Make sure everyone gets one, yeah?” and Spencer nods, counting them out. “There’s two each.”

“Two?!”

“Yes, Spence.” You collapse onto your chair, flicking through the files. 

You barely heard Spencer say "I might buy you ballet tickets every night for the rest of the year if this is what you're like."

There’s at least thirty cases, all with the same M.O., all possibly leading back to Agent Reno. They’re all almost identical to Melissa’s almost shooting: sniper, taking out a person with essentially no personal history. 

Other than that, there’s nothing geographically linking them. Even the bullets aren’t similar, but to hell if the cases aren’t related. You spend the majority of the morning sifting through the cases, linking what can be linked on blank pieces of paper and shoving them in the back of files so no one can sneak a look.

“Hey,” Aaron whispers, hand brushing against your shoulder and lingering for a little too long for the office. “Do they help?”

“Possibly,” you smile, squeezing his hand. “Thank-you.”

“Yeah. JJ’s got us a case. Child abductions, this is the second one, Las Vegas.” He drops a file in front of you. “Six day deadline, if the first timeline is anything to go by.”

“How old?” you ask before opening it. You’ve learnt not to open homicide cases concerning children without asking their age. As horrible as it sounds, there seems to be a cap on what truly freaks you out.

“Five,” Aaron says weakly. 

“Shit,” you say quietly.

“Wheels up in thirty.” 

You watch Aaron go back to his office, then shove the possible-Reno files into your go-bag so, once again, no one can look at them. Spencer yawns and you swivel in your chair, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Long night?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

You’re about to tease him, but you too are taken over by the need to yawn and you blame Spencer for it entirely.

“Long night?” Spencer returns, smirking slightly.

“Good night, long night, at this point in my life it’s all the same thing.”

And Spencer laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ not me thinking about jack and saskia quoting vines at each other while Hotch just stares at his possessed children ~  
> Jack, at Hotch: you are my dad  
> Saskia: you're my dad! boogie woogie woogie  
> Hotch: :|


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awkward Emily moment that was too good to pass up. (Also, plot? What's plot?)  
> ~  
> -saskia+jack vs. Hotch vine for the day-  
> Saskia: there's only one thing worse than a rapist  
> Hotch: ?  
> Jack: A child.  
> Hotch: no.

You check your go bag to make sure there's clothes in there that won’t totally out your engagement. Which is when Emily finds you in the bathroom, as you’re refolding your shirts and fitting them back in your bag. 

“Hey,” Emily smiles as she looks at you in the mirror.

“Hey?” you respond tentatively. 

“Listen, about… what I heard. You know I would never tell them. I just figured some things were fair game, but I can stop, if it bothers you.” 

You can’t help the surprised look over your face, the way you just stare at her, unable to move. “Em, of course it’s fair game, it’s all fair game.” (Walking on dangerous ground, but honestly it should be fine) “we shouldn’t have...” you wave your hand in the air, letting the rest of the sentence float in the air, unsaid yet implied.

“Hey, Hotch beat himself up that whole case, at least I didn’t have to listen to him pacing all night like I usually do.” 

“If we’d been in each other’s positions” (bad choice of words) “I think I would have preferred the pacing.” You pick up another shirt, folding it and putting it in your bag. Emily doesn’t agree, nor does she disagree, and with a little horror you look back up at her and she’s shrugging. “Noted.”

“Hotch, pacing, sure,” Emily says, and she picks up your last shirt, folding it and pressing it into your hands. “But there was one thing that I found particularly interesting.”

“Hmm?” you zip up your bag, half looking at her. 

She leans into your ear, watching you in the mirror with this look in her eye and you know you’re about to regret enquiring. Then, in (admittedly) a good impersonation of your breathiest voice she says “Aaron”. 

“Good to know,” you say, even with your ears heating and pure embarrassment seeping into your very core. “Glad to know you found that particularly interesting.”

But Emily’s grinning as she leaves and, honestly, you might just kill her if you’re given the opportunity. But then, it’s also nice to have your friend back.

***

You knock at Aaron’s door when it’s time to leave. He hums, looking up at you as you push the door open.

“Good to go?”

“Yeah,” he says, standing and grabbing his bag. “You look flustered, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you laugh. “Just talked to Prentiss.”

He drops a kiss to your lips, fingers tracing the chain that’s showing under your shirt. 

“This case is going to be hard,” he mumbles, eyes tracing the bullpen.

“I know,” you respond, pulling the door shut so the team can’t eavesdrop. “The team is good, you know that, and they’ve all got each other’s backs, no one’s going to fall through the cracks, okay?”

“I know, I know.”

You afford a look at the empty bullpen, then lace your fingers with his. “I’ve got your back. You don’t have to worry.”

“I’ve got your back too,” he smiles, squeezing your hand. “Let’s go save this kid then, yeah?”

“Let’s go save this kid,” you confirm. 

***

Aaron splits up the team on the plane, and then Dave proposes that you should go with JJ and Aaron to the parent’s house. It was something about sending the three parents of the team to be with the parents. You’re surprised that he doesn’t mention auras or something when he’s done explaining himself.

Like Dave’s ever had to explain himself. But he’s watching you intently the entire time he’s saying it, and you’re trying desperately hard not to rest your hand over your engagement ring. He catches you as everyone’s getting out the jet, asking if you can give him a hand with something. 

“What’s up?” you say as you take the file he holds out to you. 

“Are you okay with this case?” He narrows his eyes at you, hand resting on your elbow.

“You should be asking Hotch that question.” (But he holds your gaze and you know he can hold it for far longer than you want him to). “Dave, I’m fine. We’ve got this. The team’s got this.”

“You step out if you need to,” he orders. 

You know why he hasn’t asked Hotch if he’s okay. You wished you didn’t remember, didn’t know about it. That somehow you had buried the memory altogether. That you didn’t have to think about those terrifying eight hours that Saskia had gone missing for after Felix’s death. She’d been in police custody while you were in an interview, The next, half the police force was out looking for her. They caught the guy that took her, some lowlife that died in prison who took her for some big journalist story. ‘White Lily Killer Lead Detective’s Daughter Taken’ or some shit (that was the exact title he’d written up, fresh and ready to go to the press). 

So, sure, you don’t deal well with child abductions. And, sure, that was probably why you worked Dollhouse until you almost broke. And why you resigned from the FBI before Dave and Aaron convinced you to join the BAU.

“Yeah, Dave, I’ll step out if I need to.”

“Does Hotch know?”

“Probably? I don’t remember most of that year, truthfully, Dave.”

He squeezes your elbow and nods, slipping past you.

“Rossi? File?” you say, shaking it. 

“Add it to your bag. It’ll help. Your mother gave it to me before she died.”

***

The day comes and goes relatively uneventfully, just a phone call from the unsub that doesn’t sit right. But do they ever. After dinner (shitty take away eaten on the hood of the car because it’s a tough case and Aaron’s anal about cleanliness on these cases) it all kind of hits you at once, that there’s an actual child missing, and the child before him dead, and Spencer having a nightmare on the plane all kind of makes sense. 

Which leads to it being almost 1am and you’re reaching for the coffee pot, files laid out before you like you’d learn something new now when the team had slaved over it all day. Aaron’s gone to his room, like you’re both still trying to hide from the team, but you’ve taken the moment away from the team to slip your ring on. There’s a soft knock at your door and you put the coffee cup pot down and padding over.

You pop the door open, leaning your head on the door frame as you see Aaron, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Hey You,” you say quietly, giving him a brave smile.

“I didn’t think,” he says like it’s an apology. “I should have thought. I should have remembered about Saskia.” 

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you take his hand, tugging him into the room as you hear someone padding down the hallway. It’s Prentiss, and you only know that because she hums the notes of her sensual ‘aaron’ from earlier in the day.

“You’re okay, though?” he asks, and then his eyes fall on the files. “What happened to leaving files in the car?”

“Just felt like I hadn’t done anything,” you respond quietly as he gathers up the files, for possibly the first time since you’ve known him. “Aar.”

“No, no, stick by the rules you’ve made for yourself,” he says, shoving the files under your go bag. “Lines get too blurred otherwise.” When he finally stops moving he stands in front of you, eyes soft and sad and worried. 

“We’re going to find the kid.”

“Michael,” Aaron corrects. Gosh, is it quiet. Quiet and vulnerable. 

“We’ll find Michael.” You press your hand to his face, smiling as he relaxes, leaning into your hand. He brings a hand up to yours, stroking his thumb over your ring.

“You’re wearing it,” he smiles.

“Of course I’m wearing it, Silly.” 

He wraps you up in his arms, swaying the two of you as you just stand there. “I can’t imagine what they must be going through.” he says as he drops his head into the crook of your neck. You rub his back, sighing against him. 

“Be glad you can’t.” 

You stay like that for far longer than was comfortable, but you both needed the intimacy. It was as though you both recharged each other until the two of you are yawning. 

“How many more late nights do you think you can handle?” Aaron sighs when you’re both in bed. “What’re you running on, a couple of hours?”

“One,” you mumble into his shoulder as you snuggle into him. “One hour. A nap. Thousands of coffees.”

“You’re a superhero,” he says, kissing your hair.

“Damn straight.”

***

You wake to seventeen texts from Morgan saying how worried he is about Spence. Aaron’s still asleep, arm wrapped around your shoulder as you flick through the texts--lengthy descriptions of Spencer’s nightmare, how he woke up screaming. 

Text to: Derek Merek  
06:23  
Does he know what’s worrying him?

Reply  
06:26  
No.  
Trying to find out.

06:30  
He says it’s about the kid but I don’t think so.

“Wha’s wrong?” Aaron murmurs, turning into you.

“Morgan’s worried about Spence.”

He nods into your neck, pressing a light kiss to the skin. “He’ll watch out for him.” A pause. “Do you have anyone as a normal name on your phone? How the hell do you find everyone?”

“I know who you all are, I don’t need anyone’s real name on here.”

“Huh.”

“All your work numbers are jumbled around too, so when Spencer calls me it comes up as JJ.”

“Why?”

“It’s fun.” 

“Do you want to stay at the house with JJ when we go to the funeral today?” Aaron asks, squeezing your stomach. You think about it for a second, then shake your head.

“The more eyes the better. We’re going to find this bastard.”

“You’re sure?” (you nod, sitting up, and running your hand over his face). “That’s my girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, truth time: I'm only up to season 6 of CM so I'm learning as I go haha but I feel like everything is going to tie neatly together ee ee eee.  
> ~~  
> also i brought back my old tumblr ( clarawatson.tumblr.com ) after it being destroyed in the great 2016 purge and tbh I'll probably just shitpost about Spence/Aaron/Jack/Saskia being messes but feel free to come yell at me haha.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I only just finished (another) essay so this one only short my dudes~ ~And skipping around the episode rip~  
> !! Very short tonight !!

“Hey, can you help me with something?” Morgan asks after the funeral. “It’s not case related.”

“Sure?” You pull your hair into a bun, taking the post-it-note that Morgan hands you.

“Can you try to find a kid that was found in his basement, early 1980s? I’ve written other stuff that Reid mentioned, but that’s the most important stuff.” He bounces foot from foot, looking at you like you’re about to turn him down. “I know it’s not case related.”

“You already said that,” you smile, squeezing his arm. “I’ll run it through the detectives, hopefully there’s not too many.” (you drop your smile, because it’s no longer a smiling matter).

Morgan goes through non-computerised cases, looking for a case that matches the description. You’re perched on the edge of the detective’s desk as he narrows the search, tapping at your phone. The Detective taps the table, pointing at his computer.

“Riley Jenkins, died 1984, found in his basement, behind the dryer? Stabbed?”

“That’s the one. Morgan,” you call, sliding off the desk, pointing to the computer as the detective pulls up the file and disappears into the filing cabinet for the file.

“Thank-you,” Morgan breathes, and if you didn’t know Morgan you might have thought that he was close to crying. 

“Anytime.” Your eyes wander over the room, tracing the walls where faces and names hang, always in eyesight even though they’re mainly forgotten. How many cases like Riley’s had just ended up on walls just like these. How many Michael’s were there?

The Detective tugs Riley’s paper from the wall, shoving it into the casefile, exposing a browning sheet of paper with a face that looks all too familiar. Morgan’s saying something to you but you’re not quite listening as you slide from the desk, eyes trained on the paper like it’ll disappear if you look away from it.

“Go give that to Reid, I’ll be in in a second,” you say quietly, pushing him in the direction of the interrogation room. Morgan doesn’t fight, simply watches you for a few seconds then disappears to Spencer. You pull the paper from the bulletin board, turning it over in your hand.

Annie Cleveland, it says. Two character sketches from the 1970’s that looks, uncomfortably, like Reno.

“What’s this?” you ask, turning the paper to the detective that had helped you moments before.

“Cleveland? That case has been cold since the 80’s, what are you, the team of solving cold cases?” 

You’re not in the mood for jokes, even when you try to force a smile at him. “Can you just pull the file?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

You want to say that you’re not one to worry about Spencer, but that’s a lie, and you know it’s even more of a lie because you’re sitting in the car watching him talk to Morgan. And you’re only sitting in the car because, despite however great the ending of the case was (and, honestly, finding Michael is pretty incredible) you feel beat. Like you’re inches away from hitting a brick wall head on at a million miles an hour. 

Instead, when you’ve run out of energy to spend nervously watching Spencer, you grab your phone. It’s probably too late to call Saskia back home, but then it’s never too late to leave a voice mail for her. She’s too precious, to be honest. 

However, the phone picks up before it’s even finished the first ring.

“HI!” Saskia screams into the phone and you hold it away from your ear.

“Hi, Sweetie, how’s Grandad?”

The pause goes on for far too long. “I’m staying with Auntie Haley. Grand’ad forgot to pick me up from school.”

“He did?” you frown, eyes finally falling away from Spencer. “Everything okay?”

“He’s writing a book about Dad,” she says and you can feel her gaze go downcast. “Another one. Why does he do that?”

“I dunno, Saskia. It makes him feel important?”

She huffs and you smile softly, pulling your ring out from your shirt and running it along the chain nervously. 

“I’m never going to write a book,” Saskia says matter-of-factly. “People who do bad things shouldn’t be in books.”

God, you love her. “Don’t tell G’dad or Uncle Dave that, will you?” 

“I will.” There’s a collection of muffled noises, and you’re sure Saskia’s shoved you under her pillow. You sigh, rubbing your eyes, and the door you’re leaning up against opens, almost sprawling you out onto the dirt.

“That’s my seat,” Morgan says through a massive fucking smile. “We’re staying in Vegas.”

“I called shotgun,” you say innocently, batting your eyelashes at him. He scowls at you, and you’re surprised he doesn’t jump up and down impatiently like a child. 

“Hotch, she’s sitting in my seat,” Morgan whines. 

“I called shotgun,” you whine back.

“Did not,” Morgan pouts.

“Don’t make me put you both in the back seat,” Hotch says flatly. You smile at him because, honestly, he’s too adorable, then turn your attention back to Morgan as you raise your phone back to your ear, but it’s still just muffled noises so you hang up, texting Haley ‘tell Saskia I say night’. 

Morgan sighs dramatically and climbs into the back seat, but he’s excitedly talking about a night in Vegas already and you’re sure he’s just in a good mood because Spencer has perked up. 

“Hey,” Aaron says softly, reaching over and pressing his hand to yours which is grasped still around your ring. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Dad forgot to pick Saskia up from school.”

Aaron glances at the time, brow furrowing. “Did someone pick her up?”

“Haley,” you say. Morgan falls uncomfortably quiet. “I’ll talk to him when we’re back.”

“How does a night off in Vegas sound?” he asks, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Honestly you think Morgan might start cheering in the back seat. 

“Sounds brilliant,” you say, even though an early night sounds far, far better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~next up, some time in VEGAS and some Reno moments~  
> ~~Also, also, next up, we're meeting Addy/Adelaide for the first time who was mentioned in part one! she's lots of fun, but I need a clear mind to write her haha.~~


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> `I feel like this entire fic has just happened in bed, this chapter is no exemption, sorry~

JJ books a table at a restaurant she's wanted to eat at since she saw it on the way to the case. She wanted to get a nap in before she went, and bless her, because the moment you're in your hotel room you've set your alarm for an hour's time and you're out. 

You wake just before your alarm to the shuffling of feet outside your door, two texts from Aaron (not urgent) and you're sure Aaron is just waiting for your alarm to go off before knocking. You watch the digital numbers on the clock until they flick over and the alarm's beeping assaults the room. 

You're right. You count to ten once the alarm is off and then--

Knock.

Groaning you slide out of bed, padding over to the door, and opening it. 

Aaron looks just as bed ridden as you do. He's got a suit over his arm, but his hair is flat, eyes heavy, oversized sweater hanging from his shoulders. 

"Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi have hit downstairs," he says through a yawn. 

"I've been so out of it I forgot there was a downstairs," you respond and he smirks.

"May I come in?"

"You don't have to ask, Aar." 

But, also, it's cute that he did. He puts his suit in your wardrobe as you collapse back onto the bed, letting the surprisingly comfortable covers engulf you. Aaron doesn't hesitate to join you, pressing his body up against yours, face pressed to your shoulder. 

He wants to say something. You know he does. It bubbles with the way his lips move silently against your skin, fingers ticking nervously against your stomach as his hands slip under your shirt. 

"... I talked to Haley," he says at last. "I was just going to check on Jack but she mentioned Saskia. And…"

You frown. "Is Saskia not at Haley's?" 

"No, no, no, no, she is, she is," he squeezes you for emphasis, kissing your shoulder. "Saskia's fine." 

You wiggle in his grip, turning to face him. "Aar?" You whisper, looking up at him as he refuses to look back at you, eyes flicking like he's searching his mind for what to say. 

"I love you, you know that, yes? Nothing's ever going to change that." He finally meets your eyes. "Ever." 

"I know," you say, brow furrowing.

"You could have told me about…" (he heaves a deep breath and your mind is working overtime to figure out what he's about to say) "babe, you could have told me about the pregnancy test, I wouldn't have been mad or anything."

God, does a lump catch in your throat. You'd meant to talk to him, but you'd just ran out of time (that's never an excuse, never, but it's also the truth). And then, truthfully, you’d forgotten to tell him, because the days had all blurred together and there wasn’t really anything to say about it.

"I didn't… I know you wouldn't be mad, Aar," you whisper, eyes dropping. "You would never be mad." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice is so quiet, so vulnerable, so… hurt. 

You trace your fingers over his shirt, forming circles that disappear as soon as you stop thinking about them. Aaron, to his credit, let’s you, until you’ve avoided the question for too long for both of you, and he puts his hands over yours and presses them to his chest.

“I dunno, Aar, but… maybe… telling you made it real? Not that I didn’t want it to be real, just.” (Deep, shaky breath, shared between the two of you) “This is going to be the dumbest thing ever, but it was this safety bubble. And I… I mean, it was negative, and nothing changed, and, truthfully? I kind of just forgot about it.”

“Next time... can you just tell me? I don’t care if you don’t want to do it with me, or anything, I’d just… like to know.” 

You nod, blinking away the tears that involuntarily come from having hurt him. “Promise.”

That’s enough for Aaron. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, squeezing you tightly. “Good,” he says against your skin. Then, and only then, do his kisses dance over your skin. Forehead, temples, cheeks, jaw, lips barely brushing against your own--a move that you protest with a groan.

That, in and of itself, makes him smug. Way too smug. He latches onto your neck, flipping the both of you so he’s lying on top of you, and whatever thoughts had been whirring around your head are gone, instead your mind is filled with only the sensation of Aaron.

Only him.

How his lips feel as he mouths at your neck, his hands over your skin, working their way over your stomach, bra, pushing back your shirt and trying to get it off you without his lips ever leaving you. The way he moans when your hands find his hair, tugging at the gel ridden hair.

“We’ll be late for dinner,” you gasp as he discards your bra, lips only leaving your body to shed himself of his shirt. 

“Some things are worth being late for,” he says, coming up to your lips. He hovers there, hand fumbling with your engagement ring. “We can resume later if you want.”

Maybe it’s the fact that he means it genuinely, or how his hair’s all mussed, or the softness in his eyes as he pulls away, but you’d be late for that too. You grab at the back of his neck, bringing him back to you with a harsh, passion filled, kiss that Aaron responds to eagerly.

“We’re going to be late,” you breathe, hooking your legs around him, pulling him close. He involuntarily bucks against you, blushing, head falling to the crook of your neck. But he doesn’t disagree.

Of course he doesn’t.

You shed your pants, Aaron following you closely, both your mouths never leaving the other’s skin. There’s a strong chance both of you are going to regret it tomorrow when the team sees, the bruises you know are going to be over your shoulders, breasts, neck. The bruises Aaron’s going to have peaking over his shirt collar because you didn’t think fully when you latched yourself onto him.

Honestly, thank God that Prentiss is downstairs, and that JJ’s room isn’t anywhere near yours, because neither of you are particularly quiet. Not when Aaron eats you out like you’re the answer to everything in his life, not when you ride him with his fingers digging into your hips, presperation over his face as his breathing shallows, eyes barely able to stay open.

You work vigorously at your clit, coming moments before Aaron does. You’re both blissfully dead to the world as you fall against Aaron, breathing into his shoulder before you roll off him and into the pillows.

He barely opens his eyes when you kiss him, a soft smile as he hums into you.

“You were incredible,” he says lightly, like he’s not even there.

“Same to you,” you smile into him, tracing your fingers over his chest. A smile ghosts over his face, and honestly you think he might pass out right there. “C’mon, gotta get up. We’re gonna be late.” You glance at the clock. “Okay, we’re going to be later than we already are.”

“We could just tell them we’re not coming,” he groans, grabbing at your hand as you go to stand. 

“Or we could not,” you respond, falling into his side. “Because JJ booked at this cute sushi resturant and I really want some.”

“You hate sushi.”

“But I love the team.” You trace a finger down his jaw, kissing him lightly. “And I’m hungry.”

“Fine.” 

***

You both were, indeed, late but JJ doesn’t mind. She’s in too much of a good mood. Bless her. Aaron keeps his hand on your knee for the majority of dinner, squeezing it whenever he teased you (which was, honestly, often). 

Conversation lulls towards the end of dinner, if only because you’re all full on good sushi and a good mood. Morgan sips at his wine and makes a surprised noise, eyebrows raising at you.

“How’s Saskia doing?” he asks, leaning back. “You called her before, right?”

“She’s good,” you reply with a smile. “Still trouble with a capital ‘T’.” (Morgan looks at you, long and hard, and you know he’s debating about asking more, mainly on the line of your dad.) “Hey, Dave, do you think you could talk to Dad when we get back? He’s writing a new book, i think it’s revisions, and he’s gone work mode.”

“How bad?” Dave asks, with his brow furrowed.

“He forgot to pick Saskia up from school?” there’s a hitch in your voice you didn’t expect, and Aaron traces his thumb over your knee. He dips his head for a moment.

“Sounds familiar,” Dave says, teetering on the edge of judgemental but only in the way a friend could. Aaron looks at you, so softly, and maybe even apologetically, if the way his hand stutters in it’s methodical stroking is anything to go by. 

“Other than that, Derek, she’s fine,” you give him a playful-grumpy-smile, cocking your head. 

Morgan grimaces, but he takes it all in good faith. Aaron leans over when conversation turns to JJ, turning away from the table just enough that whatever he’s about to say to you is solely for you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You smile at Emily, who’s moments away from including you in the new conversation, and turn to Aaron. “What for?”

“When I forgot to pick you up, after that gala.” Those eyes, those massive, vulnerable eyes, that are hidden so often and yet here it is. Just for you.

“Aar, that was forever ago, it’s fine.” You cup his cheek, stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. “Honest, it’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

Precious, beautiful, Aaron Hotchner. “I told you not to do it again, and you haven’t, so…” you lean into him, kissing him lightly, and the team erupts into cheering like someone’s won the fucking lottery.

And maybe they did, because money’s landing straight in Emily’s outstretched hands and she looks too smug. Far too smug. Aaron doesn’t look back at them, focussing solely on his dinner. You, however, look them all in the eye until the whole table is practically sweating under you gaze and then you smile sweetly.

“I want 25% of your winnings, Emily.”

Emily nods, trying not to look just a little impressed. “Anything you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Meeting Adelaide very soon, bless her, also we're about to take down some of Reno's ass.~~


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~sorry this took so long to get up, but i promise it’s worth it...~~

There's a soft tap on your shoulder and Prentiss looks at the newcomer, mouth a little agape. You turn, trying to keep the frown from your face. 

It takes a moment for you to recognise the girl that had tapped your shoulder. She's smiling, for starters, and she looks… healthy. The moment you realise that, you know who she is.

Adelaide.

Addy.

The girl you followed Dollhouse through for. She no longer looks like a skeleton with skin thrown over it. She's grown out her hair, or gotten extensions, either way she looks great. It’s amazing how much almost two years can change a person for the better. 

You note that, despite the warmth in the air, she's wearing a long sleeve shirt with tight cuffs that she keeps tugging down. And her shirt collar is buttoned all the way up, paired with a cute scarf, and if you hadn’t seen all her wounds after that case you’d be none-the-wiser. 

“You probably don’t remember me but--”

“Addy?” you say, trying not to sound too surprised. She nods, practically glowing as she grins at you. 

“I wasn’t sure it was you because you were smiling,” Addy laughs. 

She laughs. Actually laughs. She’s not that teen you pulled out of the bunker, covered in blood, scared of anyone being near her. The closest you’d gotten to a laugh all those years ago had been the wavering smile before she burst into tears. Or when Saskia had given her a messily coloured sheet of Barbie as a vet and said ‘this can be you one day’ because she didn’t want Addy to be sad anymore.

And, judging by Addy’s comment, you hadn’t exactly been a ball of sunshine either.

You’re up on your feet in a second, pulling her into a hug. She squeezes you far too tight and you don’t care. You’re guilty of squeezing her back just as tight, until you think you might just break her clean in two.

“You look great,” you say as you pull back, the team all looking at the two of you expectantly. You squeeze her shoulders, fighting the urge to squeeze her face because you’re just… so happy that she’s okay.

“You look relaxed, Mom said you left the bureau?” There’s a look in her eye, something that she hadn’t had before. Curiosity. Good for her.

“I did, yeah, for a bit. But I rejoined, kind of.” You motion to the table, and Addy’s immediately turning a little shy. She shuffles just a little, until your shoulder is between you and the table, raising her hand just a little in greeting. “This is the team.”

“You have a team now?” 

“I do, this is Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and Hotch, guys, this is Adelaide.” 

The name only means something to JJ, who smiles softly at Addy, but there’s a light in her eye. Maybe Addy sees it too, because she smiles at JJ. 

“Agent y/l/n saved my life. Twice. And she wrote a glowing recommendation for my college application.” The way her chest puffs out proudly is just too cute. “On account of my grades being non-existent.”

“Oh yeah?” Dave says, raising his eyebrow at you. It’s judgemental and you know it is. He’s always warned you against keeping personal relationships with people outside of solving their cases. But Adelaide was a smart girl, and she had been good for it, and getting kidnapped and held in a bunker that was set up like a doll’s house wasn’t her fault, and it wasn’t her fault that her grades dipped because of it.

“How’d that turn out?” you ask, breaking your eyes away from Dave. 

“I got in!” And, gosh, she’s excited. “I’m doing sociology and psychology and Mom moved us closer, so we’ve got this cute house that’s like half an hour away from campus. Mom’s running for senator now, and Mel-Mel’s getting married!” she points to the table across the room. You’re stuck smiling at her for a moment, because for that split moment she really did look and sound like Saskia, ten years in the future. Then you’re looking to the table across the room where Melissa waves to you. 

You wave back to her, but don’t go over to her. There’s an understanding between you and Melissa that you keep your distance. She blames you for Addy getting kidnapped, maybe more than she blames herself, and almost two years hasn’t been enough to patch those wounds up.

“Should you be getting back to her?”

“Probably,” Addy smiles and waves at her sister. “I just wanted to give you this.” She pulls out a Piglet head keychain, one of the plush one’s they had at McDonalds when Saskia was younger. You’re pretty sure you’ve got a whole collection of them at home--probably double ups. 

“Why?”

“Before I left the hospital you were out arguing with Detective Harden and Saskia took it upon herself to give me a pep talk. I think she took one of yours and butchered it, but she’s a good kid, so the sentiment was still there.” Addy’s breath shakes and Morgan starts the table talking again for some kind of privacy. “But she told me to keep it, until things got better, and then when I stopped thinking about all the bad stuff I could give it back.”

That sounds exactly like a pep talk Saskia would steal from you. “And have you stopped thinking about the bad things?” you ask. 

Addy studies you for a moment then shakes her head. “No.”

“Keep it,” you smile, closing her hand over it. “If it keeps the bad thoughts away, it’s worth keeping.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, Addy.” Your eyes find their way back to Melissa’s table, who’s tapping her fingers against the table. “I think Mel’s waiting for you.”

“Probably,” Addy smiles. “Can you say hi to Saskia for me? I miss the lil kid.”

“Yeah, say hi to your mom for me.”

You share a quick hug before pushing her in the direction of Melissa. Then you’re back in your seat, Aaron’s hand goes straight back to your leg as he looks you over, checking that you’re okay. You smile quickly at him then reach over and snatch sushi from his plate, eliciting a small laugh from him. 

“You let Saskia meet people on cases?” Prentiss asks curiously.

“Only Dollhouse,” you respond. The whole table seems to have all the information fall into place, all of them nodding in a way that looks more like an apology. 

“You weren’t wrong about her looking like Saskia,” JJ says. “It was like looking into the future.”

“I’d hope not,” you mumble, putting your hand over Aaron’s and squeezing it. “Addy’s a good kid, but if Saskia goes through one eighth of anything Addy went through I’d consider that close to a failure.”

“Close?” Morgan asks.

“Close.” You nod. “There are a handful of people at this table that would convince me I wasn’t.”

At that, you look to Aaron, who gives you a tiny smile. The entire table makes tiny ‘awwww’ sounds and you think you might slap them. But you know they’d keep your head above water if anything was to happen, god forbid, because they’ve already done it.

***

Vegas.

That’s it, that’s the whole night.

Prentiss is smashed, Morgan is living his best life, JJ’s gone to bed early, and Dave’s flirting with a girl at one of the tables. Aaron’s messing around at one of the slot machines, arm wrapped around your waist as you sit on his lap. There could be a better way to spend a night in Vegas, but this one isn’t so bad.

“Hey,” Aaron says when he runs out of money, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Morgan said you found something at the police station? He wasn’t sure what, but he said it really caught your attention.”

“We’re having a night off in Vegas and you want to ask me about work? We could do anything else.”

“Mhmm, but leading up to this moment I’ve lost all my money to a slot machine while you sit on my lap looking distracted, so I think we can talk about side projects.” 

You roll your eyes, leaning back into him. “We can talk about it anywhere else.” 

He hums, kissing your shoulder, and collects whatever winnings he has made (way less than what he put in), and then he's standing without warning, hand around your waist so you don't fall. 

You tell him about the cold case you found from the 80s, that there's still an open investigation into Annie, who's surely Reno, and that you had the file pulled. He listens intently, never interrupting you unless it's to pull you out the way of someone or to add something.

“So if you want something to stick, the arrest is going to have to happen in Vegas,” Aaron says quietly, snatching a coaster from a table that you pass and starts to write something on it. 

You put your hand over Aaron’s writing hand, leaning into him.

“Aar, night off, Vegas,” you say dreamily.

“Babe, thoughts, gotta finish ‘em,” he responds.

You might love him, but sometimes you think both of your workaholic tendencies will be the death of both of you.

***

Somehow the two of you find a quiet corner, disrupted only by Dave who joins because he’s been turned down by multiple women. He might be a smooth talker but apparently he’s off his game tonight. Aaron’s pulled a couple of archived newspaper findings up on his phone, tapping his pen against his lip.

“Are you making him do a cryptic crossword?” Dave says, passing you a drink. 

“I made the mistake of mentioning a cold case on a night off,” you stage whisper and Dave pulls a ‘oh’ face. 

"Can I help?" He offers. 

You're half way to saying 'no' but Aaron's shaking his head while handing his phone to Dave. You’re not even given the opportunity to stop them because Dave’s taken it and he’s flicking through.

“Annie Cleveland?” Dave says, handing the phone back to Hotch. “That was your mother’s first case.”

“Your mother worked cases?” Aaron asks, not looking up from his notes. You shake your head even though he’s not looking to see. 

“Not our kind of cases,” Rossi says. “She… chose what she worked, when she worked, how she worked it. She would’ve gotten Annie too, if she hadn’t disappeared.”

“And how do you know all this, Dave?” You chirp, cocking your head.

“You’re not going to be able to catch Annie, she hasn’t been active for decades. Every time your mother got close things would disappear. Paper trails, evidence chains, literal people.” 

You frown at Dave, but Aaron’s on his feet, moving closer to you.

“If you want anything to stick,” Aaron says, tapping the coaster against his fingers, “any arrest would have to happen in Vegas, they’re the only ones with an open case on her that hasn’t been shut down by a higher power. And it would have to be in the act, just to be sure she really does go away.”

“Great,” you mumble. “I have to lure her to Vegas to get her to stop shooting at kids.”

“You may not have to lure her,” Aaron says distractedly and you follow his gaze to Reno, who’s leaning up against a slot machine.

“Son of a bitch,” Dave grumbles and he steps back, out of Reno’s eyeline. You frown, following his movement with your head. 

“Dave?”

“You want to catch her in the act and put her away for good?” Dave asks. “No questions asked on my part?”

“Yeah,” you scoff like it wasn’t a question worth dignifying with an answer.

“You’re not going to like it, but there’s the way your mother almost caught her.”

“Why would I not like it?”

Dave looks at you, then Aaron. “Vegas wedding.”

***

David Rossi, the man of three ex-wives, who likes to blend with the crowd, can make a scene when he wants to. 

And a good one, too. You’d almost believe he was drunk if it wasn’t for seeing him sober moments before. 

Reno notices immediately, and for a moment you think she might actually be disgusted by Dave. Disgusted in a familiar way, which was beyond odd, but there was no time to question it because Aaron was coming back from the rooms, slipping your gun to you.

“Feels like we’re moving awfully quickly,” Aaron murmurs into your ear before Dave turns to the two of you. 

“I know,” you gasp playfully. “It’s like we just got engaged the other night.” 

“Ready to go take down a bad guy?” Aaron says, cupping your face. 

You lean up and kiss him. “Always.”

And with that, Dave gives you The Look. 

“Let’s go get her, then.”

And Dave let’s everyone know, in the most drunk way possible, that you and Aaron are getting married.

And Reno is very, very interested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~did somebody say Vegas wedding to stop a bad guy even though no one knows about the engagement yet? Yes, yes they did.~


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~if this feels like it's not thought out: Reno was always supposed to be a subplot but part 2 got away from me~~  
> ~~Vegas Wedding baybeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~~  
> ~~Full disclosure: I know jackshit about Vegas Weddings so we're going to use some imagination here~~

Reno’s watching.

As cliche as it is, you can feel her eyes on you as Dave pins the awful lace to your hair. Aaron’s concocted the full drunk ruse, the rings are from a modified gum ball machine and you know they look tacky. Beautifully tacky.

Dave’s gotten an Elvis impersonator as the officiant because, in Dave’s words, “Why the hell not?”. You could think of many, many reasons why not, but then how many times in your life would you get the opportunity to be married by an Elvis impersonator. 

May it never happen again. 

“You look like your mother,” Dave says quietly, cupping your cheek.

“I’d hope my mother wasn’t dressed like this on her wedding day,” you reply, motioning to your outfit. 

He pulls a face that doesn’t fill you with hope. And even though you’ve seen all the wedding photos you possibly could have of your parents, you’re starting to question all the information you’ve ever been given. It would be nice if things didn’t continue to unravel around you.

“Hey,” Aaron smiles when you reach him, taking your hand. You squeeze it lightly, catching a reflection of Reno in a small glass window. You stare for too long, which is fine because it just looks like you’re looking at him. 

“Strauss is going to have a field day when we’re back,” you murmur. 

“You might get that desk job you asked for.”

If it wasn’t a wedding to bait out a corrupt CIA agent, you probably would have punched him. Playfully, at least. The Elvis impersonator looks between the both of you, that fake-Elvis smile plastered on his face, and honestly you’d checked out of the song that he’d sung because, as cute as it was, you might just kill Dave. 

Fake Elvis starts the ceremony as you watch Reno in the reflection as she draws a gun--sniper, to be more exact. Maybe your face gives it away, because Aaron squeezes your hand and nods. He nods, like he knows, and then you realise that he does because his eyes, also, keep flicking up to where Reno is.

You glance around for a moment, noticing that after Dave had ‘given you away’ (gross, he never owned you) he’d disappeared. Hopefully he had a good reason for it. The exchanging of the rings comes far too soon, and Reno’s looking far too comfortable behind her sniper. 

‘I love you,’ you mouth, squeezing his hand. He smirks, mouthing it back, and you hope beyond anything that Rossi has a plan because neither of you have got a good line of fire if it comes down to it.

You really should have thought the plan through more than blindly trusting Dave because he said it was a good idea. Actually a good rule of thumb is not to blindly trust Dave on anything other than work things.

Aaron tears the ring package with his teeth, handing you the ring for him while he holds the one for you. They really did come out of a converted gumball machine, you think as you turn the plastic ring over in your hand. His one has little pandas on it, and you wonder why something so childish is even in Vegas, but then you think to how Prentiss is when she’s drunk and it all makes sense.

You smile as Aaron repeats the vows fake-Elvis gives you (minus the Elvis ‘uh-huh-huh-huh’ inflections), trying to block out the ridiculousness of the whole situation. 

“I promise to you, Y/n Y/l/n,” Aaron says as he slips the green plastic dinosaur ring on your finger. “To commit my love to you…” (space for Elvis), “to be with you through life’s changes…” (... again, pause for Elvis) “and to nurture and strengthen the love between us, as long as we both shall live.” 

And, okay, Aaron meant it, and he’s precious, but the whole Elvis adding ‘uh huh’ at the end of everything is really tempting you to fall into a fit of giggles. 

“I promise to you, Aaron Hotchner,” you return, trying to block out Elvis, and slip the blue panda ring onto his finger the best you can, “to commit my love to you…” (pause for Elvis) “to be with you through life’s changes” (pause for Elvis) “And to nurture and strengthen the love between us, as long as we both shall live.”

Aaron looks at you, so softly, like the whole world has stopped for a moment. Stopped until the little red dot hovers on Aaron’s forehead, and he’s looking at you like he knows and you can’t move. He won’t let you move. Then--

“FBI, asshole,” Dave says. “Drop your weapon.”

The dot on Aaron’s forehead disappears, and local PD comes to where Reno and Dave are.

“This is a first for me,” fake-Elvis says. 

“We don’t usually make a habit of it,” you smile at him and Aaron squeezes your hand.

“May I pronounce you man and wife, or do you not usually make a habit of that?” Fake-Elvis smirks.

Aaron’s eyes flicker up to Dave, and you turn back to him too, where he’s hauling Reno towards the local PD. 

“Hurry up and get married,” Dave says. “We have the whole of Vegas at our fingertips for the night, don’t make me wait around at a wedding instead.”

“Well then, by the power vested in me by the laws of the state of Nevada,” (some Elvis noise that makes you giggle) “I take great pride and pleasure as I declare them man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Aaron’s lips come crashing into yours. He wraps you up in his arms, your heart stopping for a moment when he dips you. Best-fake-wedding ever, you think, before reality comes crashing in that it wasn’t… fake. Legally, it’s completely binding. And Saskia’s going to be furious that she missed it.

Haley’s going to be furious. 

“Your mind is elsewhere,” Aaron whispers as he pulls you both upright. 

“Saskia’s going to be furious,” you respond, running your fingers through his hair. “And we’re going to have mountains of paperwork when we’re back.”

“Then we’ll just have to do it twice.” He rests his forehead against yours, hands on your hips, and gosh does he smile at you. It’s soft, meaningful, perfect, and in that moment you’re everything to him. 

And, honestly, he’s everything to you too. 

“I think I might actually remember this wedding,” Fake-Elvis says. 

“Me too,” you respond, but your eyes are completely trained on Aaron.

***

It might be debated among critics, but you’ve decided the best way to spend the hours after your wedding is to sit in a police station filling out paperwork. The kind of paperwork that you hand to the nameless agent next to you, and she goes over it with a black marker. 

Thrilling.

Dave’s made it quite clear, amongst his string of disgust towards Reno, that neither of you have to tell Strauss until the morning. And by the morning, he means when you’re back at Quantico. He made it doubly clear after jabbing his finger in Reno’s direction and spitting words you never thought would come from his mouth. 

For a trained CIA agent, Reno seems to find Dave as a massive trigger. She keeps curling her lip at him, snarling, then she’d chill until Dave looks at her again. Honestly, it’s a welcome reprieve when she gets shoved in a cell.

You’re leaving just after midnight and Dave’s looking worse for wear, when a man in a far-too-official looking suit comes up to you, enquiring by way of your name only. Immediately your hand is resting on your gun as you nod in confirmation. He hands over an envelope with your name written on top in cursive.

Your mother’s cursive. 

“Mrs. Robinson trusts you to keep them safe,” he says, and then he’s disappearing like some guy giving you a side quest. Maybe he is, you don’t know. And perhaps you won’t, if you don’t open the envelope.

You slide it into your pocket, even though curiosity ate at your mind like nothing you’d ever felt before, taking Aaron’s hand. He squeezes it, then pulls you into his side, kissing your forehead.

“That was anticlimactic,” Dave says, scrubbing at his brow. 

“How’d you know it’d work?” you ask, squeezing Aaron’s hand.

Dave shrugs, splaying his hands in front of him. “Everyone loves a wedding. And, now, I’m going to leave you kids to it, and I’m going to go lose some money.”

***

“It’s none of my business,” Aaron says as he perches on the end of the bed, “but what’s in the envelope?”

You’ve shoved it into the bottom of your go-bag, refusing to look at it. But the curiosity eats at you, and it’s obviously eating at Aaron too. 

“What if I don’t want to know?” you say, but it’s quiet and weak and you both know it’s not true. He scoops your go-bag off the floor, handing it to you. You pull the envelope out, turning it over in your hands before sliding your nail under the seal.

It’s old and it comes off clumsily, in large chunks. Inside is a photograph of you and your mother at the campsite in Hawaii. You’re five, maybe six, with those pigtails that you’d always worn at that age. It was practically religious at this point. On the back, longitude and latitude. 

“Coordinates?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah,” you say, hardly believing it yourself. “Y’know that job I was talking to you about? I think this is it.”

“And what does that entail?”

“I have no idea, but I think it’s… over glorified witness protection.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~this is so short my dudes~  
> ~there's plot coming~  
> *Crawls in on my hands and knees* pssst, you know who momma's going to have an issue with? William Reid.  
> *leans in closer* you know who momma's going to meet? William Reid.  
> ~~  
> Sometimes I think about this:  
> Hotch, meeting teachers: ah, there is a conflict between my son and another child. I appreciate your work in resolving this.  
> Momma, meeting teachers: there's a conflict between my daughter and another child? Do I care? Is she handling it? I don't care, fuck off.  
> (You can bet a million times over that Hotch is the first called if teachers want to talk, Momma's... impatient.)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ some domestic before we deal with will Reid and meeting Diana ~

"This is going to have to be one of your secrets, isn't it?" Aaron asks as he sidles up behind you, wrapping his legs around you. You drop your head back onto his shoulder, watching him closely. 

“Yeah. ‘M sorry.”

But Aaron shakes his head, kissing your jaw. “When I asked your dad about--” (he picks up your hand, tracing his thumb over your engagement ring, lingering on your plastic wedding band) “he gave me a full run down. Of all of it. You don’t need to be sorry.”

You roll your eyes. Of course your dad would tell Aaron before you ever got to. But then, it was probably for the best. Your dad knew Aaron’s position far better than you ever would, even if you tried to empathise with him. Because he’d lived it.

“Being sorry makes me feel better about not sharing it with you.”

He prys the photograph from your hands, placing it back in the envelope and discarding it to the bedside table. He turns you in his lap until you’re face to face with him, drooping his arms over your shoulders. There are no words between the two of you, there doesn’t have to be. You both understand those looks. 

“So,” Aaron says at last, dropping a soft kiss to your lips. “There are two matters we need to discuss.”

You groan, leaning into him. “I’ll find a new job, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about it,” he murmurs. “You’ll have job offers falling at your feet the moment you say you’re available. Strauss has been fielding them since you joined the BAU.”

“She has?” 

“Oh yeah, Secnav calls twice a week.”

“Lauren probably calls just to check up on me.”

Aaron shrugs. “Maybe. But she still calls.” He brushes your hair away from your face, fingers lingering on your cheek. 

“And what’s the second thing?” you say, barely a whisper. 

“Moving in?” his voice, also barely a whisper. “I don’t mind either way.”

“So romantic,” you smile, brushing your fingers over his stubble. “Neither do I, which raises a problem.”

“Which one works best for Saskia?” he pulls you closer to him, eyes flicking over your face. You could roll out a string of pros and cons almost immediately, all pertaining to moving into Aaron’s apartment.

Pro: She doesn’t feel safe at your house   
Con: Aaron doesn’t have THAT many spare rooms.  
Pro: Your ex broke into your house  
Con: Aaron doesn’t need that kind of trauma.  
Pro: Saskia likes Aaron’s apartment   
Con: There’s no pretty window seats at Aaron’s house.  
Pro: No bullet holes in the wall   
Con: no beach mural in the bathroom.  
Pro: Aaron’s closer to work   
Con: you’d be closer to work.  
Pro: Saskia loves Aaron’s apartment.  
Con: Aaron doesn’t have enough rooms.

And which option would upset Jack more? Would Haley feel like you were treading on her toes? How long could you survive with brown walls?

“You can paint the walls if that’s a deal breaker,” Aaron teases. 

“I’ll paint them all hot pink, don’t tempt me.”

Aaron makes a playful ‘blegh’ noise and shakes his head. “Maybe not hot pink. But it could do with a neutral blue or something.”

“See, the whole ‘something’ really pulls me in for a rainbow wall or something.” But you’re thinking about throwing Jack’s routine out, how there’s no way you want Haley—or Jack—to think you and Saskia are replacing them.

“You’re thinking about rooms, how they would work logistically.” He presses his forehead to yours. Profilers. “We can look for somewhere else if you want, but you don’t have to worry. I can move everything out of my office if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Aar, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask, I offered.”

You watch him closely, and he’s perfectly serious. Of course he is.

“How long have you been thinking about this, Aar?” 

A small, meek and almost embarrassed, smile creeps over his face and he drops his eyes. “Three months.” (Three months, which is almost a month longer than he’s known about your rule) “maybe a bit longer. After… after the ranch. I don’t know, there was something about that case. I couldn’t not think about you and Saskia… Jack… how much I wanted to be able to see you guys when I came home from a case. When you stayed the night because Saskia was at your dad’s and—” He looks at you through his eyelashes, like he doesn’t quite want to look at you but wants you to know he’s serious. “I knew the moment you stayed while I cried. You didn’t try to fix it, or me, or anything, you just stayed. I want to be able to do that for you, and Saskia.”

“Aar, you already do,” you breathe, taking his face in your hands. “You should have proposed with that.”

He blushes. “ ‘M serious, though.”

“I know you’re serious. I love you for it.”

He smiles, this time it meets his eyes and you think he might balloon with happiness. 

“Aar, I can’t ask you to give up your office for Saskia,” you pause, pulling a face at him so he doesn’t interrupt. “But, you’ve put thought into it, and I commend you for that. And, I think, at this point the only opinion that matters is Saskia’s, so I’ll have to run it through the boss.”

“Yes ma’am,” Aaron grins, pulling your hands from his face.

You’re moments away from closing the distance between the both of you and kissing him when your phone buzzes. Once. Twice. Three times. You crawl off Aaron’s lap, grabbing your phone. 

Reno Arresting (delete contact) (2)  
This is Agent Kail, I was texting t….  
Agent Kail again, there’s some paper….

Spencealicious (1)  
Night.

You open Agent Kail’s text messages, responding to him telling him that you’ll be over in the morning to fill out the leftover paperwork. (You leave out the bit about the CIA paperwork you’re sure will find you in the next couple of days, of course.) Then you text Spence back.

To: Spencealicious.  
Sleep well! Have a nice night with your mom. X.

“Who is it?” Aaron asks as you silence it and toss it to the bedside table.

“Agent Kail, I’ll take a flight back tomorrow afternoon, I have to fill out some paperwork. And Spence says ‘night’.”

Aaron pouts playfully. “He never texts me good night.”

“That’s because you’re his boss and he doesn’t sleep on your day bed.”

“How often does that happen?” Aaron says, frowning. You run your thumb over his frown lines, looking at him softly.

“If it was enough to be a problem, I’d let you know Aar. I think he just needs an extra eye on him sometimes, and I can give him that. Plus a meal that doesn’t come from a twenty-four hour Indian take-out.”

He doesn’t stop frowning until you’re clambering back into his lap, tracing your thumbs over his cheeks, eyes flickering over his face. He nods slowly, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I will trust you to keep an eye on Reid, but if anything comes up I need you to tell me. He’s my agent.”

“Understood,” you whisper. “I play good cop, you play bad cop.”

“That’s not what I—”

You kiss him to cut him off and he smiles into you, leaning back into the mattress and pulling you with him. 

“I hope you’re as good a catch married as you were when we were engaged.” You tease, hands wandering over his clothes as you pepper kisses over his cheeks, his jaw. He chuckles, grabbing your hips and flipping the two of you.

“Wanna find out?”

***

The sun creeps through the gap in the curtains, warming the both of you. You wake before Aaron does, your face nestled into his neck, his arm protectively around your shoulder. For a hotel the sheets are surprisingly soft against your skin, even if they are impossibly tangled in both your limbs to the point where it’s a miracle they’re even still on the bed.

You turn your head, trying to keep the sun from blinding you. But truly, it’s too late, and you’re already awake. Awake enough that you can’t fall back asleep, not even with Aaron’s breathing beneath you, strong and even.

He wakes not long after you, fingers stroking against your shoulder as he inches his eyes open. 

“Bright,” he mumbles, the first words of his statement lost in the moments between sleeping and waking.

“Yeah,” you agree quietly. 

He flexes his hand, admiring the plastic ring on his finger. “This is real.”

“Aar?”

“I can’t believe we got married with plastic rings. But we did, and a part of me wishes that we could go back and tell us of the past.”

“How far back? Because me of last week would probably laugh.”

“Highschool us.”

“She’d probably laugh too, let’s be real.”

Aaron chuckles and nods. “Yeah I would’ve too.” He pauses, then presses a kiss to your hair. “Will it fit on your chain?”

“Oh yeah, it’ll fit. I’m going to get a cute little shadow box to hang them in.”It’s an off handed comment and you can hear Aaron’s heart speed up.

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

He squeezes your shoulder as he reaches over for his phone. You pat his chest, pressing a light kiss to his chest.

“Can you get mine too?” 

He hums, nodding, and passes you your phone.

Spencalicious  
0616  
I’m spending a couple of days with mom.

“Spence is staying with his mom for a bit,” you relay to Aaron, turning flicking your screen off.

“And you’re staying for paperwork,” he groans as he discards his phone. “I’m pretty sure JJ’s replacement is coming in when we’re back.”

“Be nice to her,” you say, tapping his chest.

“I’ll call Strauss about our predicament from the airstrip. The team should still be here by then, it’ll give us some time.”

“Some time?”

“Time to figure out how we drop the news that we got engaged and married without telling any of them.”

You groan and press your face further into his neck. “Yeah that one’s going to be tough. We could just not tell them, until there’s a good time to announce we’re engaged.”

“Do we have to do an engagement party?” Aaron says, hand wandering up to the back of your head. He makes it sound like it’s a death sentence, and honestly it kind of is if memory of your last two engagement parties is anything to go by.

“Yeah, we do. If not for us, for Jack and Saskia.” You feel him frown, moving to look at you. “It can’t be boring if we make it for the kids.”

“You’re incredible, and weird.”

“And you’re the one who asked to marry me.”

He groans. “Love makes you do crazy things.”

“Yes it does,” you agree, rolling into him. Your leg brushes between his own and his eyes flutter. “Got time to deal with that?” You tease, running your hand over his morning wood. And for a dreadful moment you think he might say he doesn’t, but then he’s nodding, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You kick the sheets off, kissing him as you straddle him, lacing your fingers in his hair. He moans into your mouth, hands finding your hips and guiding you onto him. He captures the sounds that escape you as you adjust to him, trying to ignore the—pleasant—soreness from your escapades the night before. 

Aaron murmurs ‘so good’ and ‘I love you’ into your ear as your head drops into his shoulder. His hands guide you softly, your breath catching.

It’s slow, quiet, and precious, the two of you exchanging quiet ‘I love you’s’ while the rest of the world still slept. You come before Aaron, only because Aaron’s the cutest and softest man you’ve ever met, and Aaron follows closely after.

He pulls you into his chest as you come off him, his breathing far more blissed than it had been moments before. 

“I love you,” he says quietly, almost so you couldn’t hear it.

“Aar, I know sweetie,” you murmur. 

“Just reminding myself.”

“Shower before we have to go?”

Despite the fact that you want to fall into the cocoon of sleep once more, you nod.

“What if we just stay here forever and never go back home?” You groan.

“Then we’d have some very disappointed children.”

And, indeed, you would.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ drum roll please: momma's changed her phone contact for Hotch ~

The police station is uncomfortably warm. Maybe it’s the actual weather, and maybe it’s because Agent Kail watches your every move like a hawk. Or both. Either way, a man from the CIA that you’ve never met before apologises for the ‘improper experience’ you had with Reno, yet doesn’t take your job away. In fact, he seems to be proud of your ability to take internal affairs into your own hands. Which seems to be a horrible thing to be proud of an agent for, but he is, and lets you keep your job with your new handler--Thomas (said ‘Tomar’, of course, because how else would a CIA agent pronounce their name). 

As the boss man (for that’s what he’s called, because you’re pretty sure he introduced himself as a breed of snake) leaves with Reno, she snarls at you. You stand your ground, staring her down. You’ve already had one person trying to make your life a living hell, you weren’t going to let Reno get under your skin. 

Or at least give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s gotten under your skin.

“Hey, sweetie pie,” Reno says as she’s leaving, Boss Man clutching at her arm. “You should ask that chipmunk looking marine how long it took your mom to die. He knows.”

You don’t let your eyes flicker in surprise. You don’t let her see the curiosity that threatens to spread across your face. In fact, you don’t let her see anything. However, you do flip her off before the station doors close, and then you’re following Agent Kail who asks if you want a coffee (no thanks, I’m seeing someone) and grabbing your handbag. 

You’re perched at one of the sergeants desks, booking a plane ticket home when your phone buzzes. 

(Text from:) Aar Head <3  
Double D’s staying with Reid.  
Please keep an eye out.

You smirk. ‘Double D’ was an off handed comment Saskia had made one time when she was making brownies with the team’s first name letters on them (honestly, she was procrastinating something, but she’s 10 so procrastination is allowed) and she realised there was nothing to tell the difference between Dave’s brownies and Derek’s brownies.

Reply:  
Should I stay?

Aar Head <3  
Please.

Reply:   
Ok. Love you. 

Aar Head <3  
Love you too.

You turn down the plane ticket, packing yourself up and texting Rossi as you leave the station.

Text to: TesoRossi  
Boss told me to hover, call if you need anything.

You pause outside the station as you get a text from Addy, inviting you to visit her at the support home she’s volunteering at if you have time before you leave (bless her) and you reply, telling her to send you the address. 

Text from: TesoRossi  
Can do.

You text Haley from the taxi as you’re heading to see Addy. She calls you almost immediately. 

“You did WHAT without me?” Haley screeches. 

“Hi Hales,” you respond meekly. 

“You didn’t even have an engagement party, I was going to make it horrible for you.”

“Gee, thanks,” you chuckle. “I think we might have one though. For the kids. And, also, we literally told no one.”

“No one? What about Aaron’s team?”

“No one,” you confirm. “We weren’t going to mention it for a bit.”

“A bit? Man, how can you hide that kind of thing from a bunch of profilers? I couldn’t keep any secrets from Aaron.” She falls quiet and you hum in agreement. “At least you won’t have to deal with a wedding.”

“And if we… were… to do the wedding thing…” you broach, handing the driver the fair and jumping out the taxi. “I know it’s a lot because he’s your ex and stuff but would you want a maid of honour deal, or something less… up the front.”

“Did you just ask me to be your maid of honour in the worst way possible?”

You pause, then nod. “Yeah, I did.”

“Let me think on it and I’ll get back to you.” She hums and you’re sure she nods even though you can’t see her. “Sorry hun but I have to go back to work. I’ll call you when I’m home.”

“Have fun,” you tell her and hang up.

You spend a decent amount of time with Addy. She’s sorting donated books and the staff were all too happy to let you join her. She tells you all about what you’ve missed since the last time you saw her, how excited she is to move (again) but how sad she’ll be to leave volunteering because she’s gotten attached to some of the residents.

“Hey Adelaide, have you got anything new for my mom?” 

You look up to see Spencer, who picks up a hardcover book and turns it over, examining it. She nods excitedly, grabbing a stack of books she’s tied together with string.

“There’s some originals in there, I didn’t know if she had them or not. I know she won’t be allowed the string, but it looked nice. Oh, Spencer, this is Y/N. She’s the one I told you about.”

Spencer holds out his hand, not looking up, introducing himself. You smirk, cocking your head at him. 

“Hi Spence.”

He jumps, looking at you guiltily. “Hey, sorry, I was somewhere else. You didn’t fly back with the team?”

“I had some paperwork,” you say cryptically because you know he’s not listening. He pulls the string off the books, taking two and handing the other’s back to Addy. 

“She’ll like these ones,” Spencer says and someone calls for Addy. “Hey, do you want to come meet my mom?” he asks it quietly, and you’re not sure he really means it. 

“Are you sure?”

But before you can say anything else, Spencer grabs your wrist and you’re waving bye to Addy who’s smiling and waving too. From what Aaron’s told you, Spencer keeps his mother separate from the team. He would have preferred if they never met, which you totally understand, and judging by the fact you know Derek and Dave are helping him and they’re not here kind of confirms it for you.

“Spence, you don’t have to introduce me if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” he says, and his eyes fall on the plastic wedding band. “Things got weird last night?”

“Things got weird,” you confirm. 

You come to a stop by a woman seated in an armchair, looking out the window. 

“Mom? I wanted to introduce you to someone,” Spencer says, dropping to his knees and handing her the books. “This is Y/N. I wrote about her, she has--”

“A daughter,” the woman finishes, nodding. “Yes, you’re just how Spencer described you.”

“This is my mother, Diana.” He sits, cross legged, looking between the two of you. 

She nods and looks out the window once more, and you stand there awkwardly trying desperately hard not to look awkward. Then Diana places her hand on his head, and you can’t help but notice how similar it is to when you’re barely listening to Spencer and just want him to know he’s being heard. 

“Spencer, can you get me a glass of water?” she asks and Spencer’s off to get on in a heartbeat. “Come, sit,” Diana offers. “My son has been asking odd questions today.”

You nod in agreement, even though you don’t know a thing that he’s asked about. “He’s had a lot on his mind, but he’s working through it. He might be on a bit of a crusade right now, but he’ll be okay.”

“You’ll watch out for him, won’t you?” She looks at you with such earnest that your heart breaks. Your heart breaks that a mother would ever feel like that towards their own child. 

“Always,” you smile and she grabs your hand, squeezing it.

“Thank-you,” she says. Spence comes back with a cup of water and you listen to Diana switch between talking to the two of you about whatever Spencer wanted to talk about and a lecture she needed to prepare for.

When you’re leaving Spencer’s nervous. He talks to you with his nervous claw hands, where he just flips his fingers skyward and then towards the ground between sentences. You listen to him, nodding each time he looks to you. 

“Thank-you for introducing me to your mom, Spence,” you say before you both leave through the door.

“Okay,” he says distractedly. “Are you planning on staying, or do you have a flight?”

“I don’t have a flight,” you say. 

“D-do, uh, do you want join us? Morgan and Rossi are helping me figure out what happened to Riley Jenkins.” He doesn’t meet your eye and you nod.

“Sure, anything that helps.”

He nods so much he seems like he’s a bobble head that might never stop moving. 

***

“So you just ran into Reid?” Dave asks as you both hang in the car while Spencer and Derek are talking to Riley Jenkin’s dad.

“Yeah. Divine intervention or something,” you sigh as you unclasp your necklace, sliding your plastic ring on with your engagement ring. Dave leans over, hooking it with his finger.

“Is this recent?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Only a couple of days older than my marriage,” you grumble, snatching it back. “Please don’t tell the team. Not just yet, Aar and I are figuring out when to tell the team.”

“You should have told Strauss before you came out on the field,” Dave chastises.

“Shoulda coulda woulda,” you say back. “It’s fine. I’ll find somewhere else when we’re back.”

“You’re going to leave the BAU?” Dave asks quietly. “Reid won’t take that well.”

“So we’re not telling him right now. We’re not telling anyone, right now.”

“Be a shame to lose you.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re not losing me, Dave, I’m just moving on to brighter pastures.”

“Doesn’t that mean you’re dead?”

“Ugh, probably. I'm not dead, I'll just work on boring cases.”

Out the corner of your eye you watch as Morgan and Spence stalk towards the car. Panicked, you clip your necklace back on, shoving it beneath your shirt. Dave looks you once over and you’re wishing you brought up Reno, or asked him about your mother, but now really doesn’t seem to be the right time. 

Not that it will ever be the right time.

“He was ten minutes away,” Spence says, hurt, as he climbs into the car. You raise an eyebrow at him but Morgan’s shaking his head softly.

“His dad. We’re going to go see his dad,” Morgan explains and you nod slowly.

“Got an address?” 

Morgan gives over the information as you watch Spence, trying to judge if he really is okay. He gives you a brave smile and you reach back, squeezing his knee.

“We’ll figure this out, Spence.”

“I know,” he says softly and you know he’s not truly believing it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~TesoRossi is my favourite phone contact to date ('Tesoro' is Treasure in Italian... apparently. TesoRossi is just Rossi as a treasure haha)~


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also known as: momma bites at William Reid.

You, Dave and Morgan are… terrifying, judging by the glances you've all gotten at Spencer's dad's law firm. You wish you could say you've never seen Spencer this nervous before, but you have. Only now he's not in a safe space where he can religiously make tea, or build something with Saskia, or talk for hours about historical inaccuracies in a new historical drama.

Now he has to deal with all that nervous energy and nowhere to put it. Which is freaking Morgan out, and you're just wishing you'd left something of Saskia's in your bag. Even if it was the dumb galaxy fart putty she'd bought from the school book fair. Spence just looks like he needs something to do other than freak out. Morgan looks like he needs something to do, but Morgan finds his strength in being Spence's protective older brother and he'll thrive the moment he gets to stare down anyone who's upset him. 

You have no doubt that he’ll thrive staring down Spencer’s father. You know you will.

“Smells like lawyers,” you mutter as you round the corner into Wieder Kirschenbaum & Moore: Attorney at law, if only to break the tension. Spence doesn’t react, but Morgan does his ‘I’m not going to chuckle but I’ll heave an impressed breath’ move and you pat his shoulder lightly.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” the receptionist asks, looking sheepish when you bring up the rear.

Spence stutters almost immediately, like all the thoughts in his head have bundled and refuse to form words. The rest of you wait to see if Spencer comes up with something, and when he doesn’t you’re grateful that Dave steps in, asking to speak with William Reid. 

You watch Spence carefully, the way his eyes keep flicking around nervously. How he swallows where he would usually speak. You know this whole thing’s been plaguing him, but you didn’t realise it was this bad. Morgan glances at you when he notices it too, trying to keep his face neutral.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

“Yeah,” Spence says. “No… yeah… I’m going to the bathroom.” And then he’s gone, so quick that you have to fight the urge to follow him.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Morgan says and you’re shaking your head to agree with him He’s only been this nervous once before, when he’d said he wanted to talk about something important with you then he’d proceeded to not tell you anything at all.

“Seventeen years is a long time to go between visits,” Dave says in response. 

“Not long enough, the kid’s still angry.”

“I’m starting to get that.”

“I think he’s handling it pretty well,” you comment. “It could be worse.”

“That’s what you’re going to say?” Morgan scoffs and you shrug.

“He could have turned down help.”

Dave studies you for a moment then nods. “S’pose.”

***

It’s not that William Reid makes your skin rise like a freshly plucked goose, you were--truthfully--trying to stay objective. Spence might have jumped to conclusions about him being a pedophilic child murderer, but you can’t afford to jump on that bandwagon without evidence. 

But there’s also the element that he doesn’t seem to be trying to patch anything up with Spence, in fact he seems to be almost defensive. Okay, no, he is defensive. And you hate that he’s doing it. Because it doesn’t make him look entirely innocent. 

Morgan’s taken to standing by the bookshelf, Rossi spread out on the class, Spence closest to the door, and honestly you’re trying not to snap at William Reid so you’re studying the diplomas on the wall, running your fingernails over the surface of a cabinet. 

“You don’t look like me anymore,” William says. You frown, turning and leaning up against the surface. “You used to. Everybody said so.” And Will looks to Morgan and Rossi for validation. Dave doesn’t even give him the satisfaction of looking at him.

“They say some people look like their dogs, too,” Spence says and you fight the urge to heave a sigh of relief that your Spence is somewhat back. “It’s attributed to prolonged mutual exposure. Elderly couples, also. They unconsciously mimic the expressions of people they’ve been around their whole life. So, it kind of--kind of makes sense that I wouldn’t really look like you. I haven’t seen you for twenty years.”

Morgan smirks at you and your fight not to return the expression. But Will doesn’t apologise, or say anything to calm him, and Spence’s chin wobbles, and hell if you don’t want to bundle him up and take him away from all of it. But you also know that wouldn’t give Spencer any peace at all. 

“So, are you in town for work?” Will asks and you might actually implode if your phone didn’t buzz.

Text from: Aar Head <3  
How is he?

Reply:  
Spence or his dad?

You pause, nodding with the conversation as they talk about wrapping up the recent case.

Text to: Aar Head <3  
Might take his dad out with a chainsaw.

Text from: Aar Head <3  
Play nice.  
I’ll call you later. 

Reply:   
Not if I call you first.

You can almost hear him laugh and put his phone in his drawer. A part of you wishes he stayed to deal with Will, the other part of you knows he would have yelled at Will by now. Maybe even threatened him, which would have been satisfying, but this is about Spence and throwing hands (or threatening to) isn’t going to help.

You come back to the conversation as Will’s looking at Spence, impressed, while Morgan and Dave seem far too unimpressed.

“I stopped being surprised by Spencer’s mind a long time ago.”

Dave shifts in his seat. “There are certain criteria we consider when looking at this type of suspect. You fit parts of that profile.”

“Me?” Will says incredulously.

You can’t stop the judgemental “uh huh” that falls from your lips, earning a strong, unimpressed look from Will.

“You’re not actually saying that I killed Riley Jenkins?”

“We didn’t say that,” Spence says. Your phone buzzes as you shove it into your pocket.

“Good because that’s absurd,” Will says and his eyes go straight to Spencer in a way that makes you far too defensive of Spencer.

“Don’t look at him,” you say softly. “Not like that. We just want permission to look through your records.”

“And what would you be looking for exactly?” Will doesn’t break that gaze with Spencer, but when no one answers his eyes flick to you, then the boys. “You want access to my files?” Another pause and then he looks Spencer dead in the eyes. “Get a warrant.”

God, you want to throw hands. Spence leaves, Dave and Morgan in tow. You’re a little slower to follow, your eyes lingering on Will.

“If you don’t have anything to hide, why make us get a warrant?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“I think you should leave my office now.”

“No,” you say softly. “You have an incredibly special boy out there, who’s confused about a lot of things, and your treatment of him just then really didn’t win you any points.”

“Ok?” he gets up and rearranges the pens on his desk.

“So do you have a reason for being so callous towards Spencer, or did you really kill Riley Jenkins and the walls are about to crash in dramatically?”

“You lot are really full of yourselves, accusing me of something like that.”

“Mmm, and avoiding the question.” You smile sweetly at him.

“I’m well aware that Spencer’s a special kid,” Will says as he collapses into his chair. “But I don’t appreciate being accused of child murder.”

“And Spencer’s not exactly ecstatic about accusing you of it.”

Your phone buzzes.

“I said you can get a warrant.”

“Oh, I’m not staying to get you to confess.” You hold Will’s gaze until you’re sure he’s sweating under you. “If you talk to Spencer like that again, I will make your life hell. I don’t care if you killed Riley or not, in fact I’m pretty much rooting for you to have not done it because I can’t imagine how much it would shatter Spencer. But, trust me, Spencer deserves so much better than feeling like the ends of a loaf of bread. Not once did you show an ounce of compassion towards the kid. He looked like he was going to break down and, what?, you just made some off handed remarks?”

“I haven’t seen him in seventeen years.”

“You could have pretended to care. I don’t care how long it’s been, that’s your son, and I’m sorry he’s accused you of being a child murderer, but you could have shown an ounce of affection towards him.”

“It would have been fake.”

The hairs on the back of your neck rise as you try not to react. “Honestly, William, I don’t think Spencer would have cared.” You grab your bag, heading for the door. Your hand rests on the door handle and you turn back to him. “Ten minutes? Really? You let him suffer all those years, while he tried to juggle being a fucking genius and way maturer than his peers--all while still being a kid--and you were ten minutes away? He didn’t deserve that.”

“I’d like you to leave my office now.”

“I’m doing just that.”

The car’s gone but Morgan’s waiting for you downstairs. He pushes himself off the staircase railings and falls into stride beside you.

“Did you convince him to hand over his files?” Morgan asks.

“No. But I’m pretty sure I’ve made him hate himself for the next couple of hours, so really it’s a win-win situation.”

“That’s what that was about?” 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

He shrugs. “Reid will objectively appreciate it. Speaking of, Rossi and Reid are scouting for food. Thought we could talk.”

“About?” you ask, trying desperately hard not to place your hand over your ring necklace. 

“I don’t know,” Morgan says quietly, looking at his shoes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look shy.

“Do you want to talk at me about Spence until you feel better?”

“At you?”

“I say ‘mhmm’ and ‘oh yeah’ at increments or steer you away from spiralling, but ultimately I have no part in this one sided conversation.”

Morgan looks like you’ve just sprouted two heads. “How many times do you do that in the office?”

“Morgan, I have a beautiful, obsessive, little girl who can quote her top five favourite Doctor Who episodes at the drop of her hat, and can write me a thesis on why Martha Jones visiting both 1930’s New York, and New New New New” (at this you look at Morgan, and he just grimaces, knowing how many ‘new’s are coming after it) “York is important to the space time continuum. On top of that, I’m dating your section chief, who talks out loud while he does his paperwork but if you don’t respond he looks like you’ve just told him his puppy’s died. I’m good at the ‘mhmm’s.”

“Okay, okay,” Morgan chuckles and nudges you with his shoulder. “I would love to be privy to an ‘mhmm’ conversation.”

“If you want, I can count down,” you tease and Morgan shakes his head.

***

The day had been long. 

So long. So many tosses and turns that you can practically feel your brain bursting with all the information you’ve had to absorb. You still worry about Spencer, although watching him interrogate him dad made you worry less. 

Although, you’re still worrying, even with the case closed and Spencer feels somewhat better about himself, and you’re on the plane back home. You’d bought ‘airport gifts’ for Saskia because she’d never let you forget it if you didn’t, but Spence is fiddling and you might go insane if he continues so you crack open one of the instant-air-dry clay animal creators, peel the plastic casing off the clumps of clay, and passing it to him.

“What’s this for?” he asks. 

“Make something for Saskia,” you respond, shoving your handbag back between your feet. “She’ll like it.”

He nods slowly, then gets to work moulding it to look just like the picture on the packaging. Almost perfectly. And you say almost because he’s forming the ridge of the spine as an ‘S’.

“Hey, Y/n?” he says quietly and you look to him.

“Yeah?” 

“Do you think I’m difficult?” 

“No,” you say and maybe it’s a little quick but he smiles softly at you and nods. “Of course you’re not difficult, Spence.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to be a burden or--”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, Spencer, no, let me stop you. You’re not a burden, and you could never be a burden, I promise.”

“Really?”

“Really, Spence.” You reach over and push a strand of his hair behind his ear. “You are incredible, loved, and probably my daughter’s favourite human being.”

“What about Hotch?” Spencer asks, turning his clay model that’s starting to look like a real-life purple dinosaur. 

“He’s alright, but she’d choose you any day. She thinks you’re way cooler.”

“Thanks,” he smiles. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” You shift in your chair so you’re looking at him properly.

“Can I call you tonight if I need to? I just, uh, it’s been a rough day, and… I’m not sure how…” he fades, then looks around the seats. Morgan and Rossi are sitting far enough away that they can’t hear and you’re sure that’s what Spencer’s looking for. “Before you joined us I had… a… problem.”

You nod, biting back a tiny little ‘mhmm’ because you’re sure Morgan will sense it. Aaron had mentioned it in passing, if only because he wasn’t sure what exactly was going down, but the nosy part of you is extremely happy that he’s trusting you enough to tell you.

“A drug problem,” he says quietly. “And… I feel like I want to. After today. I don’t, but… maybe I do?”

“Do you want to call, or do you want to come over for dinner and watch a terrible movie?” 

Spencer smirks and shrugs, leaning close to the dinosaur as he adds texture. “That sounds nice.”

“I’ll make you an extra plate then. My door’s always open to you, Spence.”

“Thanks.”

“Any time.”

***

Spencer hasn’t called or come around, so you and Aaron are on the couch, limbs tangled as you watch whatever’s on TV with the sound so low that it’s just background noise. Aaron’s got a hand tangled in your hair, the other splayed over the back of the couch.

“Are you going to sleep anytime soon?” Aaron whispers through a yawn.

“Not until I hear from Spence,” you say, sitting up just enough that you can look at Aaron. “You can go to bed if you want.”

He shakes his head, smiling at you softly. “I’m okay.”

You nod, falling back against his chest. “I have a meeting with Strauss tomorrow.”

“Good luck,” he moans. “Did you see JJ?”

You nod, smiling into the darkness only illuminated by the TV screen. “Isn’t he precious?”

“Very, very precious. JJ looks happy.”

You splay your fingers over his chest and smile. “Of course she is.” You’re both there in comfortable silence, your ear pressed to Aaron’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, trying to match your breathing to his. You smirk when he starts to snore lightly, hand loosening in your hair.

Not ten minutes later your phone buzzes and you wiggle out of Aaron’s arms, reaching for your phone.

Spencealicious (1)  
I think I might need to come over.

You smile, texting him back that there’s food in the fridge, a key under the door, and fresh sheets on the daybed. Then you return to your menu screen to the messages you’d missed earlier in the day when you were in Will Reid’s office.

Derek Merek (1)  
Please don’t fight Will Reid.

Aar Head <3 (1)  
I miss you. Stay safe.

You shake Aaron’s chest lightly until he hums awake, looking at you through groggy eyes.

“What?” he asks thickly.

“I missed you too, dummy. Even if it was only a couple of hours.”

He blushes and squeezes your shoulders, then his head is falling back against the arm of the couch and he’s asleep again. And, god, do you love him. Because you really, really do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~momma's been looking out for her autistic children before it was cool to have slime, and she'll probably have a new tub of stuff in her bag by the time she's home.~  
> ~~also, Saskia being neurodivergent and momma not noticing because 'spencer does it too' is a canonical thing now~~


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Hotch's canon birth date is messy & debated, so therefore this fic also has MESSY TIMELINES~

Spence struggles finding the key and it's the only thing that rouses you from your half sleep. You push yourself off Aaron, who protests a little then pulls a couch cushion out from behind him and hugs that instead. And, oh, how you love him. 

You open the door, smiling at Spence before realising how out of it he looks. 

"Did you walk here?" You ask softly, he's covered in a thin layer of water droplets that haven't quite seeped into his clothes and skin. 

He nods, not meeting your eyes. You pull him in, locking the door when you close it, and try not to look at him like he's your child but it's so, so hard. 

"Go have a shower, warm yourself up, I'll warm up your dinner."

Again, he nods, and you pull a spare towel out of the linen cupboard. You pad around the kitchen, turning on the light, and Aaron barely reacts. He just nuzzles further into the couch, hiding his face. Spence comes out in one of Felix's old shirts you hadn't had the heart to throw away. It's too big for him but he looks comfortable, and warm, which is all that matters. 

"I hope I didn't wake you," Spence says quietly and you shake your head, motioning to Aaron who's completely knocked out on the couch at this point.

"No one was disturbed." 

"I didn't know Hotch slept," Spence says quietly in an attempt at humour. 

"Sometimes. When you can pull him away from paperwork.” You ruffle Spencer’s hair as he practically folds into the dining table chairs and picks at his food. You watch him until he actually eats, then you sit on the arm of the chair, squeezing Aaron’s ankle.

He starts, jumping slightly, and his eyes open for a second only to close once more. You smile softly, glancing at Spence when the nerve filled dam finally breaks, and he’s shovelling his food into his mouth like he hasn’t eaten in days.

“Hey, Spence, what do you eat when you’re at home?”

“There’s this 24 hour Indian take-out on the way out of work,” he says, not looking at you. 

You nod, not chastising him, but you make a note that twice a week Spencer’s going to miraculously find a tupperware container of dinner on his desk that doesn’t come from a take-out store. 

When he’s finished his dinner he puts the plate in the sink, looking awkward when you tell him that you’ll wash it up in the morning. He wrings his hands then asks;

“W-when we were putting your house together, ages ago now, I saw a bunch of Russian first editions in your book box? An-an odd choice, by the rest of your literature, but would you mind if I took a look at them? They’re on the bottom shelf of your bookshelf and they haven’t moved all this time. You don’t even dust around them.”

You smile softly at him. Before your mom died she’d been intent on trying to teach you Russian. In the end you used to just look at the pages and smell the books because it had made her happy. You haven’t looked at them since her death, but your dad had let you keep the books. 

“Just put them back where you found them,” you smile and you think Spencer might actually jump for joy. 

“Thanks so much.” He’s hurrying towards the spare room, stops before he gets into the hallway and looks at Hotch like something isn’t sitting right with him. Then he turns to you and smiles. “He looks peaceful.”

“I suppose we all do when we sleep,” you smile, but your eyes are trained on Aaron. You almost miss the way Spencer’s eyes flicker to you, the way he seems to suddenly actually be happy, and then he’s saying good night and disappearing into the spare room. 

You wipe the table down with a damp cloth before turning the light off and padding over to Aaron, kneeling beside the couch and running your fingers over his face until his eyes flutter open.

“Spencer’s in the spare room,” you whisper and Aaron nods, licking his lips to get rid of the remnants of sleep. “You need to come to bed, I’m not going to have you complain about a bad neck tomorrow.”

“Bad neck?” he moans thickly. “It’ll be a bad body. Everything’ll be screaming at me.”

“I’ll be screaming at you,” you add, taking his hand. He groans as he stands, sliding his arms around your waist.

“Reid’s okay?” he asks, dropping a kiss to your lips.

“You taste like sleep,” you complain, then nod, pulling him with you towards your room. “Spence’s okay.”

Spence mumbles ‘I’m fine’ as you pass the door and you pull a face at Aaron that makes him roll his eyes. You’re pulling your door mostly shut when you hear Saskia’s tiny “night mom” like she knows she should be asleep.

“Night Angel,” you call back and she buries herself into her covers as loudly as possible.

Aaron climbs into bed, pulling the covers back on your side for you to join him. Which you do, of course. He pulls you into him as you flick your lamp off, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“You doing okay?” Aaron asks. 

Your eyes droop, nodding against his chest. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m just checking in, no ulterior motives.”

“Are you doing okay?” you return. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he says, rubbing your back. “I’m fine.”

You both fall silent, the two of you not saying anything to each other. However, neither of you fall asleep until Spencer’s methodical turning of pages fall silent and the house fills will soft snores from both Spencer and Saskia.

And only then, do you both sleep.

***

Spencer drives to work with you, joining you for Saskia’s morning drop off. You don’t think you’ve ever heard her talk so enthusiastically about nothing at all. Spencer keeps telling her facts about Russian literature and she’s repeating it back, and you know she’s going to repeat it all at school.

When you’re in the carpark Spencer pulls an envelope out of his bag, handing it to you. It’s old, browned by not yet faded, judging by the stamps it’s dated early nineties. Dave’s handwriting addresses it to you, but the return address on the back is definitely your mother’s.

“It was in one of your books,” Spencer says. “I didn’t open it, but it looked important.”

“Yeah… thanks.” 

Strauss has reorganised all your meetings, which is a nightmare, leaving a note on your desk that she wished to talk to you privately before she talks to both you and Hotch. You sigh, peeling the top sticky note off the pad, and shoving it into your bag, then you’re sliding your nail under the seal of your envelope and finding your way into the bathroom, locking yourself into one of the stalls.

You soothe the letter over your legs as you sit, running your fingers over your mother’s writing. Your eyes glaze over with tears before you’ve even gotten the chance to read the words.

‘ _Dear Pumpkin,_ ’ (she’s drawn hearts over the ‘i’, like she always used to). ‘ _I’m not sure if you’ll ever get this, but if you do I’m sure it’s not going to be pleasant. I’m sorry that I had to go away._ ’ (you’re sure here she took a break because her handwriting changes) ‘ _David told me you came home early that day, found the house how I had left it. That you had_ ’ (another pause, then a couple of lines scribbled out) ‘ _I’m so proud of you, and I am so sorry. I know that will never change anything, but I hope it brings you some sort of peace.’_

 _‘The other day I drove past the house, it was Halloween. I can’t believe how big you are now! I know that’s silly to say, what are you? Seventeen? Eighteen? Nineteen? God, you’re almost twenty, there’s so much I’ve missed._ ’ (More scribbled out lines). ‘ _You left with the girl dressed as Daphne, but you forgot to lock the door so I took the chance to come in. Write this. You’ve got a nice collection of novelty pens, I remember bringing some of these home to you._ ’

‘ _You got some very nice friends. I talked to two of them at the corner store yesterday, the one with the kid brother? Aaron? And’_ (the writing changes again) ‘ _Felix. You’re sweet on him, I can tell by all these drawings you have of him. You’re very talented._ ’ 

‘ _Sweet heart, I should be home within the month, ten months tops. I know you’re probably going to hate me for a long time, but it will be nice to see your face again. I have to help David out with a couple of things and then I’ll be home. I promise._ ’ 

‘ _I love you forever, I’m so proud of you,_

 _Mom xxx._ ’

She’s left hearts all over the page, and a couple of stamps you used to have all over your room. There’s a second piece of paper, in David Rossi’s handwriting, a police report that’s never been handed in.

A police report, written by David Rossi, detailing your mother’s death. Moment for moment. Almost a decade and a half after you’d buried her. 

You’re stuck between upset and furious when you leave the bathroom, bypassing Strauss who calls your name and you respond with a curt “not right now” that will surely get you fired as you stalk towards Dave’s office. 

He looks up at you, then at the envelope, and he frowns as though he doesn’t quite understand why you’re standing in his office looking like you might burst into tears at any second, but also scream until your throat’s sore.

“Unbelievable,” is all you manage to breathe out. Dave frowns at you, voice stuttering without ever forming a word. “You knew? All this time? That she wasn’t dead? And you never said anything?”

“Knew what?”

“Don’t be smart, David,” you spit. “You let us grieve. You _drove_ me to the police station, covered in her blood because I _fell_ _in it_ and you never once told me that she was okay? And you were there when she really did die? And never said anything?”

“I… I couldn’t,” he stutters. You shake your head, crumpling up the death report and throwing the ball at his chest.

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, then you’re turning on your heel and stalking out of his office, through the bullpen (stopping to pick up your bag) and passing Strauss again.

“Agent, we have a meeting,” Strauss calls after you.

“Not unless it’s not in this building,” you call back, taking the fire escape stairs. 

And to your surprise, Strauss joins you. She doesn’t even question it, she just silently matches your angry pace, pocketing her badge as you leave the building.

“What’s so important that you wanted to see me without Hotch?” you ask once you’ve calmed down enough to walk slower. 

Strauss gives you a tight lipped smile. “How about we discuss this over coffee?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Sorry to our favourite Italian Dad, but he made a boo boo~


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~exposition, dialogue, plot moving forward, who is she??~

Strauss offers to buy you a coffee, but she’d noticed you eyeing off a couple of frappuccinos and--bless her--she caves and brings you out a sickeningly sweet frappuccino. So sickeningly sweet that it must be mostly sugar at this point. You don’t entirely mind. 

“Walk and talk?” Strauss offers.

“Are you sure?” you ask, but she’s already walking and not giving you time to say otherwise. 

“You look like you could do with the walk,” Strauss smiles and, honestly, she’s not wrong. 

You both mostly walk in silence, until the cold drink is burning into your palm, and you’re calm enough that your mind isn’t completely racing. (Although, to note, you’re still mad at Rossi. But Strauss has walked you enough that now it’s an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ scenario). Strauss turns to you, looking you up and down before she starts.

“I am aware of the relationship you have... built… with Agent Hotchner, and how it now affects your position at the BAU,” she says, voice level. “I am, also, aware, that you were forthright with me when this relationship first began and I left you on the team.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She smiles softly at you. “Erin, while we’re out here.”

“Okay?” you stumble, but you make a note of the familiarity.

“I don’t wish to put you on the spot, as I did when I pushed you to join the team, but I kept your letter of resignation when you left the DC field office.” 

“You did?” you raise an eyebrow at her. “That was meant for the Director and Agent Fornell. It wasn’t exactly… kind.”

“You were angry, I understand. But I’m sure that the sentiment of what you had written still stands.” She takes a long drink of her coffee, as if waiting for you to prove her wrong. “I believe I may have just found the perfect position for you. Rodney, the one who occasionally does psych evals” (you snort, he’s terrible at his job but you can’t tell Strauss that) “he’s put in his resignation, he’s leaving at the end of the month.”

“That’s a shame,” you smile, tight lipped.

“No it’s not, he’s horrible at his job no one wishes to talk to him.” (Now you really do laugh). “His job will, no doubt, be swallowed into someone else’s job for budget cuts. However, there is an option I think you may like.”

“No offence, but I’d rather start a long career in being a serial killer than be the person who runs psych evals.”

Strauss chuckles. “I hear you. Especially with the BAU in that building, they might be your friends but they surely know how to lie their way through a psych eval.”

“They did write the book on it, they’re the worst kind of people.”

You’ve made a full circle back to the building, and Strauss pivots, turning to retrace her steps away from the building. You hesitate for a moment, then join her.

“Now, I can’t get you exactly what you asked for, but I could swing a couple of things without changing your job substantially.”

“Erin?” you prompt softly.

“I believe your letter spoke to your frustration of inflexible hours--I know that was because of the long hours during Dollhouse but I’m sure it still stands.”

You hesitate to nod, but you do. As much as you love your job at the BAU, there are days--and cases--that run for too long and Saskia suddenly has more stories about Haley and Jack than she has about you. Which is fine, you don’t mind, (okay, you do mind a little bit), but there are some days that it weighs far too heavily on you. 

“Yeah, it does. Just a bit.”

Strauss puts her hand on your shoulder briefly. “I understand that’s difficult to admit when you have a team that you enjoy being with. This job opportunity would take you away from the BAU, but not entirely. Your loyalties would, ideally, still lie with the BAU, although you can pick and choose what cases you work and in what capacity.” 

“How?”

“Well, your job would be… strongly connected… with the unit you are in now, except you would be given opportunities to help establish new teams, train agents in different jurisdictions to give profiles. A lot of giving lectures, assisting with profiles, all within office hours.”

“This sounds too good not to have a catch, Erin.”

She smiles at you like she’s proud of you for figuring it out. “You would, essentially, fill in as the BAU’s psychologist, you’ve certainly got the degrees to go with it. You’re one of the only people in this world that the team trusts, I’m not entirely sure how you’ve done it.”

“Hard work, I think that’s it.” You smile. “Not being the boss helps.”

Strauss snorts. “I know it’s not exactly ideal, but it would keep the Bureau off your back.”

“You’re looking out for my back?”

“I didn’t say this to you, but since you joined the BAU they’ve actually kept below their budget. And, they’re all in a better mood.”

“You mean Hotch isn’t the worst workaholic ever?”

“That’s the one.” 

“I’ll have to talk about it with Aaron, but I can’t imagine why not.”

“You would get to spend a lot more time with Saskia,” Strauss says.

“Yes I would.”

***

To see Aaron, or to see Dave, is the greatest dilemma you’d had to date.

It’s ultimately solved when Dave meets you before you get out of the elevator, staring at you until you hold the door back and he steps in. 

“Which floor?” you offer, and Dave shrugs.

“Pick one, it won’t matter anyway.”

And because you’re mad at him, and can be a teenage shit when it suits you, you press the floor you’re on. 

He glares at you. “Another one.” So you press the floor below. Dave doesn’t glare at you, nor does he moan, he just waits until the elevator starts moving, then presses the emergency stop button. The lights flicker off, shrouding you both in the gross low emergency light.

“I don’t remember this being your move, I believe it belongs to a certain NCIS agent,” you say snarkily. 

“I believe it’s the only way you’re going to talk to me.”

As if proving his point you cross your arms, leaning against the wall. 

“Did… did you tell Felix’s family that he wasn’t dead after he came back?” Dave asks.

You shake your head, no. “That’s different, Dave, Mom didn’t come back and hold us all hostage. We wanted her back, Dave, you watched first hand the way Dad spiralled. When you weren’t working cases, or fighting some marine battle, or getting a divorce, you were practically parenting me. And now I’m supposed to… deal with the fact that you knew the whole time? Knew that she was okay?”

“She wasn’t okay,” Dave says, matching your posture. “She lost a lot of blood that day and, truthfully, I thought she was dead when I picked you up.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“I didn’t know until seven years later, you have to believe me. She turned up at my doorstep asking for help, she need help so she could come home. To you, to your father.”

“And yet she didn’t. That letter, sure, is seven years later, probably a bit more. That death report though, is years later, Dave. She said ten months tops. Four years isn’t ten months.”

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry about that.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it, Dave.”

“Nor does it put a bandaid over it. Do you remember Huntington?”

“Sure, he was a mobster or a gangster or something. Really big in Honolulu in the seventies. Mom and Dad fought all the time about letting me go with her to Hawaii, Dad used to say it was just ‘testing fate’.”

Dave nods, agreeing with you. “Huntington took a liking to your mother. He threatened to kill you, and your father, if he couldn’t get the information she had. Something about a small village on the coast?” (You shake your head, even though you know exactly what he’s talking about.) “The first time your mother died, it was a Huntington deal. He didn’t care if he got the village as long as your mother worked with him, side by side, and she watched her family suffer. They spent months collecting her blood, storing it, studying crime scenes. Practicing crime scenes to make them look genuine.”

“And the second time?”

“Reno shot her. She’d been following your mother for years, believing that the village was connected to Huntington or something, I was never quite sure. She really wouldn’t share it with me. Your Mom was trying to nail something to her, and Reno took the shot.”

You frown, rubbing at your forehead. “Reno said something to me, when she was leaving, she said that you knew how long it took her to bleed out?”

“She made me stay,” he says quietly. “She wouldn’t let me see those people she was protecting, but she made me stay until Mrs. Robinson came. Five hours your mom refused medical treatment. She died two hours after that, Mrs. Robinson seemed to blame herself.”

“Was Huntington dead?”

“Yes. I killed him myself.” He doesn’t even hesitate to say it. 

“Thank-you,” is all you can say in response.

“Are we good now?” Dave asks. 

You give him a tight lipped smile and shake your head. “You’re understood, but I’m still mad at you.” The cold doesn’t last long between the two of you because you look up and Dave’s eyes are glistening with tears that threaten to fall and you can’t help but close the distance between the two of you and hug him.

Dave squeezes you tight, rubbing your back, and you’re pretty sure that he’s murmuring apologies into your ear that you’re not listening to at all. 

“You can start the elevator again,” you say quietly as you pull away from the hug. 

He smirks, flicking the elevator back on. It whirrs to life, the lights turning back on, and Dave presses the bullpen’s floor. Spencer meets you almost immediately, bouncing on his heels right outside the doors.

“Are you guys okay? The elevator’s been out for a while, thought you might be stuck.”

You squeeze Spencer’s arm and nod. “Fine, Spence.”

You leave Spence telling Dave about the probability of the elevators going down, bypassing the bullpen and going straight to Aaron’s office, locking the door once you’re inside.

“What was that about?” he asks without looking up from his paperwork. 

“Uh, when people in my life die they don’t, until they do,” you say, pulling out the death report and placing it on Aaron’s desk.

He looks it over, folds it, and looks up at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, barely a breath, but then you’re looking Aaron dead in the eye and shaking your head. “No, but I will be.” The second part is a complete lie, and you know Aaron knows it because your voice gets thick and you’re blinking way too fast.

He glances out at the bullpen, gets up and closes the blinds. 

“Can I hug you?” he says lowly. “I’m assuming the locked door means you’re not going to storm off like you did to Dave.”

You glare at him, scrunching up your nose. “I might bash your head into the desk if you feel like being smart.” 

Aaron smirks at you, pulling you into his chest. He doesn’t smell like his usual cologne, instead something fruity and sweet that you can’t quite place, maybe with a hint of mint. You try not to react, but Aaron’s already noticed and he huffs dramatically.

“You’re not allowed to judge me, I went home to shower but I ran out of body wash and the only thing left was Jack’s fruity-dinosaur shit.” 

You pull back, bringing your hands up to squeeze his face. “I think it’s cute.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, blush setting in deep over his face and neck. “Tell me if you need anything, yeah?”

“Always,” you whisper, brushing your fingers over his cheeks. “Same goes for you, Hotchner.”

He leans down and kisses you softly and quickly. “What did Strauss want?”

“My job,” you whisper and Aaron groans, guiding you both to the couch and collapsing you both onto it. He pulls your legs on his lap, looking at you softly.

“What’s the verdict? How soon are we losing you?” 

You reach over and take his hand, squeezing it lightly. “End of the week? But it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Really?”

“I get to play head shrink for a bit.” You lift his hand to your mouth, kissing it. “It’s mainly a desk job, establishing teams, training them to give profiles, that kind of thing. But I’d still be able to work with the BAU, I just get to say ‘no thanks’ to you every now and then.”

“You’re okay with that?” he asks.

“Yeah, Aar, it actually sounds pretty nice. I’d be home more often, and with Saskia.” You watch him closely. “Are you okay with it?”

“As long as you’re happy.” And he means it, which makes you smile.

“I love you so much, Aaron Hotchner.” 

He pulls you into him, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you more.” 

“Fight me.”

He shakes his head, pressing his nose into your cheek. “I won’t fight you, love you too much.”

“I’m getting an office all to myself,” you smile. “Rodney put his resignation in.”

“That’s a shame,” Aaron says dryly and you shake your head. 

“Everyone’s agreed it’s not. Including Strauss, of whom we have to speak to about our marriage.” You gasp, pulling back. “You know what she told me to call her today? Erin. Since when was I on ‘Erin’ level?”

“Apparently since now,” Aaron chuckles. “Think she’s dying?”

“Don’t joke, we could have a worse boss.”

“How?!”

And you pick up his hand, kissing his bare ring finger. He studies you, then nods and shrugs.

“I guess you’re right,” he surrenders.

“I’ll meet you in Strauss’s office in ten? I downed a sugar filled frappuccino whilst being mad at Dave, I think I need to run a couple of laps around the bullpen and have Spence explain to me how fast the Millenium Falcon can travel through hyperspace logistically. And if aerodynamics matter in space.”

“You’ve thought about this,” Aaron says, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I always wonder if aerodynamics matter in space, space is weird.”

You’re getting up off the couch and unlocking the door, and you turn to Aaron, resting your head on the doorframe. “You know what we get to discuss this month?” you ask softly. He shakes his head. “Babies.”

And you rip the door open, skipping out of his room into the bullpen, earning an odd look from Prentiss and Morgan, drop into your desk and ask, “Spence, would aerodynamics matter in space?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~next chapter going to be discussing le babehs~~ (+some mom and dad time, and possible moving houses)


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got dark, I'm sorry guys! (but it's sandwiched with some good ol' times)

You wonder how aware Aaron is of using his 'dad voice' when he calls everyone, minus Tara, to the round table and says "Take a seat." Which makes Morgan look way too nervous, and Emily starts picking at her nails, Spence taps at his leg, and Garcia talks nervously about nothing at all. Dave comes in a little later than everyone else, giving you a soft, yet weary smile as he takes a seat. 

"I don't want to freak anyone out," you say softly, joining the seated table. "But things are going to change a little around here."

"Change?" Garcia squeaks. “I don’t ‘deal’ with change!”

“Penelope,” you laugh quietly while Aaron tries not to tense beside you. “It’s not that much of a change, just… workload change, and a slight” (you pinch your fingers together and raise it in front of your face) “slight, location change.”

“You’re leaving us?” Spence whispers, eyes falling to the table. Honestly, you should have followed your gut and done this one person at a time.

“No.” It’s quick and to the point, only because if Spence and Garcia spiral then you’ve lost the whole table. “I’ll be leaving the bullpen, and I won’t be on as many cases, but I’ll be working home base when I’m not out on the field with you guys.”

“Did something happen? Are you hurt?” Morgan says quickly, leaning forward. Trust Morgan to get to the point. 

“No, no, nothing like that. I’m fine.” You motion between you and Aaron. “We’re fine, too. This stays in this room, but Rodney put in his resignation and he’s leaving at the end of the week.”

“Finally,” Emily groans. “He’s the worst to talk to, I’d get more out of talking to a sack of potatoes. Wait? Does that mean you’re taking over head shrinking and make us all sit on a couch to assess whether we’re fit to do our jobs? Cause no offence I’d hate you if you took that job.”

“No, I won’t be taking that job, it’s getting swallowed up for budget cuts. But, in some division, I will. In theory I’ll cover the psych evals that the Bureau won’t let be covered in-team. But, fuck, I hate psych evals--both taking and giving--so you’re not going to get blind sided on that.”

“Amen to that,” Emily says, sliding down her chair. She’s stopped picking at her fingernails, so that’s a bonus. 

“It’s more… consult work, interagency stuff, setting up teams, training people to create--rudimentary--profiles. Might take the weight off a couple of agents’ backs.” 

Aaron nods and places his hand on your knee. “It’s a great opportunity,” he adds like the room doesn’t know it themselves. 

“Plus, I’ll get my own office so you won’t have to deal with the putrid smell of my daughter’s school bag.” That gets a laugh from the room, thankfully, because you’ve really got nothing else to say. 

“What if we miss that?” Spence asks, pulling a tiny little smirk that has you knowing he’s trying desperately hard to make a joke.

“Then you can put a banana in the bottom of your bag and leave it for three months.”

Spence scrunches up his face and shakes it quickly, which makes you laugh. 

“You’re not leaving us, right, we can talk to you whenever we want?” Spencer asks quietly like he’s being told off for something.

“I’m not leaving,” you confirm. “And my door will always be open, no exceptions. Okay, maybe one or two exceptions, but they can always be bent for you guys.”

“You’ve gotta promise not to profile us unless you explicitly state it before hand,” Morgan says warily, turning his body away from you with a little teasing smile.

“Look, hand on my heart, I won’t profile any of you, because I wouldn’t in the bullpen either.”

It seems to settle the team, but you note that Garcia and Spence still look apprehensive about the change. Dave hasn’t said a word to you, just watching you with his arms crossed. You make a note to talk to him later, even if you really, really, don’t want to. 

“So when do you leave?” Emily asks, clasping her hands together.

“I move--” you correct, “to Rodney’s office whenever Strauss tells me, so probably next week. I’m not leaving.” 

“C-can I say something that’s not relevant to this?” Spencer says, and you nod. “You both really look like parents when you sit like that, and the fact that Hotch hasn’t said anything at all kind of makes me laugh.”

“I thought that was just me,” Prentiss laughs. “No, really, the two of you do.” 

“As long as neither of you ground any of us, I think we can deal with that,” Morgan chuckles.

“Are we good?” you ask and the table all nod.

Good.

***

You’re dropping the plates into the sink, Aaron’s searching through the movie shelf with Saskia, when it hits you.

“Shit,” you mutter and Saskia gasps dramatically like she’s offended (she does it every time), Aaron joins you, taking your hand. 

“You okay?” he asks, turning your hand and you realise he must have jumped to the conclusion that you’d cut yourself. 

“Yeah, I didn’t cut myself, but we forgot to tell the team we got engaged.”

He shakes his head at you, kissing your cheek. “Yeah, we did. We can tell them later, though.”

“Ah, yes, let’s gather them around the round table once more,” you say sarcastically, reaching back and squeezing his thigh. “We might give Garcia a heart attack.”

“I emailed JJ about your job change,” he says into your neck, prying your hands out of the water. “And Saskia’s impatient to watch Hercules.”

“Honey, I think you mean ‘Hunkcules’,” you say and Saskia laughs. Aaron stares at you, not registering. “Aaron Hotchner, have you never seen Hercules before?” He shakes his head, frowning. “Saskia, he’s never seen Hercules before.”

“Speaking of disasters,” Saskia says as she jumps onto the couch. “Mom and I know every line and every song and you’re going to have to sit through all of it. It has damsels, in distress, and they can handle it.”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Aaron says and Saskia leans over the back of the couch.

“You’re out of luck, because me and mum outnumber you and if you leave the room we’ll turn it up really loud.”

“I could put up a fight?” Aaron offers, but Saskia’s shaking her head.

“Not tonight.”

***

Saskia’s passed out, engulfed in her toys, with the covers pulled up under her chin. She’d fallen asleep in the final third of the movie, tucked under Aaron’s arms, her feet pressed to your leg. Aaron had been too invested in the movie to turn it off so you’d just left it on, watching Aaron as he followed the plot far too intently for a grown man. 

Now you’re both back on the couch, sipping at the peach iced tea Haley had made with Saskia, that you’ve put in wine glasses because they don’t get used enough. Aaron’s nestled into the couch, throw blanket pulled over his legs, then dragged over to your side. 

“Are you serious that you’d never watched Hercules?”

“Yeah I’m serious, since when do I get time to watch movies? And cartoons at that?” 

“Tonight,” you smile softly, nudging his leg. 

“Mmhmm.” He sips slowly at his glass of iced tea. “I’ll give it to her, Haley makes a good iced tea.”

“I missed it,” you smile. “She sent me the recipe ages ago, but I honestly can’t make it as good as her. Saskia’s in the running, though.”

“I bet she is.”

You lean your head against the back of the couch, smiling softly at him. He mirrors your action. 

“I think it all went down pretty well today,” he whispers and you nod in confirmation.

“Probably because you didn’t say anything,” you tease and he squeezes your ankle in response. “I was thinking about living arrangements, and I don’t want to put you out by making you get rid of your office, but if you’re serious…” you trail off, and Aaron nods, eyes watching you carefully. 

“I’m serious, and Haley always said I needed to work at home less.”

“So you just stay at the office?” you tease and he pokes his tongue out at you.

“Something like that.”

“It’s not going to be like living alone,” you say, as though he has no idea. “Saskia’s rarely as neat as you see her.”

“I know,” he says softly. “If I didn’t want you, and Saskia, and all the mess that comes with the two of you, I wouldn’t have proposed.”

“That’s very sweet, but I’m serious,” you smile.

“Me too.”

“Okay, but you can’t complain when Saskia’s art projects get out of hand, okay? We’ve got a system going.”

“A system of art projects getting out of hand? I can’t believe she’s your daughter, you were always so neat,” Aaron teases and you kick him lightly. “I promise not to complain.”

“I’m going to rent this place out, to people that need it,” you say quietly. “There’s a single mom’s group I joined when I got out of WITSEC, sometimes they hook parents up with housing if they’re in a tight spot. Saskia and I stayed at this wonderful lady’s house for a couple of weeks while I found my own place and…” you trail off, expecting Aaron to interrupt you but he doesn’t. “I can keep the cupboards stocked with non-perishables, and it’s got a good security system. Far enough away from busy areas that you’d notice if you were being followed, not too far away if you forget something.”

“I didn’t know that,” he says softly, reaching across and resting his hand on your thigh.

“Hmm? There’s heaps of groups, Aar.”

“No,” he says quietly. “That you stayed in a strangers house for ‘a couple of weeks’. You should have called Haley and I, we had a spare room. Even if we hadn’t, we would have made something work.”

“Aar, we hadn’t talked in years. Not to be dramatic, but I’d convinced myself that… I dunno, Aar, I wasn’t… in the space to call Haley, or you. I wasn’t in the space to do anything, Aar.”

God, he looks like he’s going to cry. “I should’ve done more.”

“You can’t have done more, because I didn’t tell you more. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m a profiler, I should’ve figured out something was wrong.”

“Aar, everything was wrong. My husband had just been murdered, I wouldn’t sleep, The week I did stay with you I didn’t leave Saskia’s side. There was nothing ‘right’ that whole time.”

“Still.”

“Hey, look at me, I’m fine now.” 

He smiles at you, only weakly, and nods. “I know. I’m just… Sorry that it happened.”

“I know.” You down your iced tea, then crawl across the couch to him, folding yourself into his arms. He hums, if only because he doesn’t know what else to say, and places his glass on the floor, wrapping his arms around you until you’re completely bundled up.

“We should have had wine,” he chuckles, but it’s wet and you know if you look up that he’s probably blinking away tears. 

“Probably.” You place your hand on his chest, drawing tiny circles with your fingertips. “I’m glad we didn’t, though, it’s better that we had it clear headed.”

“C-can I ask you something else? You don’t have to answer.” 

“Yeah, Aaron,” you murmur, lifting your head and resting your chin on his chest.

“Strauss said you were… too calm when Felix was here. She said that you, uh, didn’t flinch when he shot at you. Was Felix ever… did he ever…” you don’t think you’ve ever seen him stutter so much. “You weren’t surprised, I don’t think, that it happened. More… frustrated? Like you knew it would happen? She said it wasn’t the kind of calm that come with training, but someone who’d lived it.”

You nod slowly, because he’s a little right, even if you don’t want to admit it. “He was never, not like that, but uh… he had a temper. Towards the end.”

“Before he died?”

“Before I left him. We… we were going to get a divorce but he wouldn’t sign the papers. He was pretty bad about it.”

“You should have called,” he says once more and you roll your eyes at him. 

“Aar, there’s a lot I should have done. But I didn’t, and now we’re here, so it’s okay.”

His eyebrows quiver, then his chin, and he presses his hand to your cheek. “I love you, but it’s not okay.”

You nuzzle into his hand, pressing a kiss to his wrist. “That’s what ‘messy real world’ is,” you whisper. “Speaking of messy world, we have a discussion to have that’s way lighter than that shit hole.”

“Babies?” he says quietly and you nod, only for him to give you a smile that he’s trying desperately hard not to show. 

“If we do,” you say quietly and Aaron shuffles on the couch. “I don’t want you, or Haley, or Jack, or Saskia to feel like it’s a replacement for them. Or better, or, I dunno.”

“Yeah, I get it. And they won’t, promise.” He holds his hand up, extending his pinky. You giggle and wrap your pinky around it, sealing the promise. “Is there a reason why you only had Saskia?”

You shake your head and shrug. “There was a serial killer chasing after Felix, we’d been trying for almost eight years, she definitely wasn’t planned after so long, I wasn’t exactly jazzed about letting him mount me.”

Aaron hiccups, halfway between laughing and shocked. “Jazzed--” he breathes. “Your mind, honestly.”

“You’re the one that married it. You and Haley?”

“Uh, we waited until it seemed right. And it was… complicated.” He blows out a long breath and you nod, agreeing with him because you’d rung Haley a couple of times during it just because you couldn’t visit her. “We thought it would… I thought I’d end up being home more often but after a while things just went back to normal.”

“It always does,” you respond. “You’re a good dad, even if you’re a workaholic.” He smiles, even if he doesn’t believe it. 

“Would you have another kid?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I would. Would you?”

“Yeah,” he whispers back. “If the time was right.”

You roll your eyes. “There are some things that can’t be planned for, nor will they happen if the time is ‘right’.”

“Really?” he whispers. 

“Aaron, we’re not exactly careful.” You trace circles on his shirt. “It’s quite practically a miracle that nothing’s happened. A miracle that could turn into a curse depending on which way you look at it.”

He nods, cupping your face. “So we just take whatever comes at us, then?”

“Aaron, what have we done so far? Literally every single milestone in our relationship has been ‘whatever comes at us’. We got married because it helped arrest a corrupt CIA agent.”

“Mmm,” he smiles. “But I proposed before that, at least.”

“You proposed at almost four in the morning, my dear.”

“You got me there.”

“So do we stay doing what we’re doing? Or do we throw caution to the wind?” 

He pulls a face like he’s actually debating it. “I say we stay what we’re doing now, get married for the kids, then say ‘fuck it’.”

You giggle. “Or ‘fuck me’.”

“That too.” He throws his head back against the arm of the chair. “We have to tell the team.”

“We do,” you murmur. “They’ll take it well. We should wait until JJ’s back at work.”

“Why?” he says, lifting his head and raising an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t want her to feel left out because she went on maternity leave.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” you giggle, sitting up. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I think Saskia’s asleep,” you look into the kitchen, checking the time. “And it’s early.”

“And?”

“If you want you can get lucky.”

You smile, standing, and extending your hand to him. His lips twitch and he takes your hand, hauling himself to his feet. He wraps his arms around you, cupping your butt and pulling you close to him as he rocks you both towards the bedroom.

“I think I could deal with that,” he smirks, dropping a kiss to your lips.

“I’d hope so. You married me,” you say against his lips, hand wondering over the wall to find your bedroom door. 

“Damn straight,” he chuckles.

And you know that it’s probably going to be one of the best nights of your life the moment the backs of your knees hit the mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The BAU: wine! hammered! yes!  
> Mom & Dad: peach iced tea in wine glasses. serious conversation. 'wish we got hammered'.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~also known as: the one where Saskia and Haley gang up on mom and dad, we work through some trauma, and some ~~special moments~~!~  
> ~also i swear this is the last of the Felix mentions, bitch needs to be buried for good.~  
> ~she's so lengthy todayyy~

It's an actual, sociable, hour when Haley knocks. You'd dressed earlier in the morning in a hurry because Saskia had woken in a panicked flurry only to say "it's Friday, not Wednesday" and then she'd acted like she hadn't woken you at 6am like she was already an hour late. 

"You look…" Haley pauses, looking you up and down, before her eyes flicker to the hallway behind you where Aaron's wandered out of your room, completely oblivious to Haley's visit. "Well, you look like you spent the night with that."

"Are you going to be nice if you come in, or should I pencil you in for lunch?" You ask, following her gaze to where Aaron's turned with an awkward half wave. "That goes for you, too, cowboy." 

"I'll put coffee on?" Aaron offers, if only as an excuse to retreat into the kitchen, which is met with “what is THAT” and Saskia’s snappy response of “my breakfast, NOT yours”.

“Two peas in a pod,” Haley smiles softly. 

“Are you coming in?” You step aside, and she hesitates for a moment then nods, coming inside. 

Saskia jumps when she sees Haley, dropping her spoon to wave excitedly. You eye off her bowl, frowning at the concoction of what looks to be porridge and cornflakes with banana.

“What IS that?” you say softly, picking up her spoon and pushing at her breakfast.

“I wanted all of them for breakfasy,” she snatches her spoon back and soothes down the top of her bowl. “Y’know there are people who don’t even eat breakfast, Mom, you should be happy.”

“Oh, she knows,” Haley teases, a hand brushing against your lower back as she passes you and grabs coffee mugs out of the cupboard. 

“Do you want some?” Saskia offers, pushing the bowl towards you. 

“I love you, but I would rather do grocery shopping at two in the morning.”

Saskia pulls a face like she’s been transformed into a thirty-year-old woman. “Nathan’s Mom’s picking me up before school,” Saskia says through a mouthful. “And I’m going to Mary’s grandma’s after school.”

“Is it on the calendar?” 

“Mom, it’s been on the calendar for two weeks. Two.” She holds up two fingers. “Dos.”

“Zwei,” Haley adds and you glare at her.

“Okay, okay, I forgot, faults on me.” You hold up your hands. “I surrender. Did you also have a standing appointment that I forgot about, Hales?” 

“No,” she says, taking the coffee cup Aaron slides to her, both of them actively avoiding looking at each other. “But I left a shirt in your wardrobe that I would like back.”

“Do you want me to grab it?”

Saskia shakes her head suddenly, pushing her bowl away from her. “This is gross now. I’ll take Aunty Haley.” She jumps off her chair, grabbing Haley’s wrist and dragging her to your room. 

“Saski, are you going to finish this…?” ‘slop’, you add silently.

“No!” Saskia calls back and you shake your head, scooping it into the bin. 

“Does it taste any good?” Aaron asks.

“Do you want some? I’m not touching it.” 

He hands you your coffee and shakes his head back, kissing your cheek.

“Aar, I can ask Haley to leave if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine,” he smiles and then he’s pulling out the paper Saskia brought in from outside, flicking through the articles. 

You narrow your eyes at him, but he’s turned away from you, collapsing onto the couch with his cup of coffee. Haley pulls a face at you that tells you she knows exactly what’s happening and splays the shirt before you. Saskia sprints from your room, to hers, then she’s running down the hallway to you with her bag over her shoulder.

“Nathan’s here, I gotta go,” she says quickly, wrapping her arms around you and pressing her face into you as she hugs you as hard as she can. You squat, kissing her cheek, and she kisses yours back. Then she kisses Haley’s cheek, and Aaron’s (much to his surprise, you have to note) and she’s bolting to the door.

She opens the door, waving, and adds “say hi and bye to Mom” to Nathan, who does just that.

“Hi! Bye!” you call back as Saskia pulls the door shut.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Haley mumbles, still staring at the door. 

“I would if I knew how I did it. Have you eaten?” you respond.

Haley shakes her head and goes through your cupboards like she belongs in your house. Aaron finishes reading whatever he was looking at, drops it on the couch and then he’s going mindlessly down the hall into your bedroom, muttering something that sounds like it could be ‘I’m going to shower’. 

Which is when Haley turns to you, slice of dry white bread hanging from her teeth.

“Have you talked to him?” she asks, tearing the bread between her teeth.

“... Yes? I talk to Aaron everyday.” 

“You know what I mean.” She slaps the bread down on the bench, butters it, and then shoves it all in her mouth in one go.

“I do not, and since when did you start eating like a teenager again?” 

“I broke up with that girl I was seeing so I’m allowed to eat whatever I want, and you, young lady, are deflecting.”

"Hales, I'm not deflecting," you grumble even though you know that you absolutely are. "And I'm sorry."

"Eh," is all she says in response and points accusingly at you with the butter knife. "You haven't told Aaron how upset you were." 

She leaves the rest unsaid, because she knows you know, and tosses the knife into the sink. You think about lying to her, but you're sure she's picked up a thing or two about reading body language after being married to Aaron for so long so you don't bother. 

"No, I haven't, and can you-please-wash up your knife." 

"Yes, Mom," Haley says with fake exasperation, diving her hands into the almost-cold soapy water. "Talk to him, I mean it. Both of you are the epitome of bottling it up because everything is currently fine." 

"Hales," you whine but she's already looking at you funny so you drop it.

The house is practically silent when Aaron switches the water off. Haley downs her coffee, discards the cup in the sink, and kisses your cheek as she picks up her handbag and shirt.

"I'll catch you later," she says. "Tell. Him." 

"Catch you later," you call back as she stalks down your corridor and pulls your bedroom door closed before she leaves. 

You collapse into one of the dining room chairs and push your coffee mug around the table until Aaron comes back out, fully dressed in his suit, and transfers his coffee into a travel mug. 

"Do you want a ride to work?" He asks, kissing your hair.

"Are you planning on leaving before 4.30? I've got to pick Saskia up from Mary's Grandma's at 5." 

"I can do that. I'll head back to the office if I need to." 

You nod, down your coffee and throw it into the sink with Haley's.

"I'll just grab my bag," you smile.

Aaron grabs your wrist as you pass him, tugging you to him. "You okay?"

"Fine," you smile. 

He narrows his eyes at you like he knows you're lying, but he doesn't follow it up.

***

You're coming back up to the office with ten minutes of your lunch break left when Haley calls you.

You stand in the antichamber between the elevator and bullpen, staring at the caller ID until you decide that it's not worth letting her go to voicemail. 

"Hello my nearest and dearest," you say, pushing the bullpen door open and finding your way to the coffee machine. "How can I help you?" 

"I'm picking Saskia up from Mary's Grandmas this afternoon, heads up. We're going to watch a movie and have a sleepover, Jack misses her." 

"Do I get a say in this, Hales? You can't just kidnap my kid for an afternoon because you feel like it." You grab a coffee mug and Morgan clambers out of his chair to join you. 

"I'm not," she responds. "You need to talk to Aaron."

"Hales, I can do it," you say, more offended than anything. "There are lines you are crossing right now." 

"Honey, I fucked up one marriage. I'm not going to watch you make the same mistakes." 

"I'm not going to, and I can fuck things up all by my lonesome," you say. Morgan slides his cup to you and cocks his head curiously at you. You shake your head, silently telling him that you're fine. 

There's silence from Haley's side and then a large sigh. "Saskia is worried. She overheard you guys last night, just a little, she said you guys need a safe space to talk that isn't with her." 

Morgan pats your back before he returns to his desk. 

"Ok. But, Haley? Next time can you ask, please?" You hate how meek and soft you ask the question.

"Got it. Next time I'll ask. I gotta go."

"Same," you groan, thinking about the pile of paperwork on your desk. 

"I love you, and I'm sorry I didn't ask." 

"I love you too, Hales."

***

"What's this?" Aaron mumbles as he picks up the hamper that's so very Haley. It's sitting in front of his apartment door and he hands it back to you like it's poisoned. 

It's a collection of things that you're not sure you want to address, a mason jar full of paper, and a plate of white chocolate chip cookies.

"The plate of truth," you respond as Aaron wrestles with the lock. He groans, but doesn't fight it. 

You both ignore the plate for what feels like hours, but realistically it's only been ten minutes. It’s Aaron that pulls it out, placing it on the table and motions for you to sit across from him. 

“Do you want to go first?” he asks quietly and you shake your head. Aaron nods slowly, with a movement that seems to rock his whole body. “Can I, uh, ask you something that doesn’t add up?”

“Yeah, Aar,” you respond softly.

“It’s been sitting with me since you told me that Felix… became a copycat, or heir, or whatever for the White Lily killings. When was that?”

It’s not exactly the question you were expecting. Surprisingly, it feels almost like relief to have to answer it, compared to anything that he could have opened with. 

“I…. I can’t be sure, but… ‘97, ‘98?”

You watch Aaron doing the math, and then he reaches over and takes your hand. “Saskia was born ‘98,” he says like you don’t know when your own daughter was born. “I read through the casefiles--weeks ago--and that’s… he did a lot, Love. Did you… did he change? The way he treated you.”

You’re half way to shaking your head when your eyes fall on the plate of cookies and you pick one up. Maybe there was something to the cookies being some sort of shield between you and all the bad things.

“He told me it was my fault. Each time there was a new murder.” You nibble at the edge of your cookie. “He was always ‘doing his best’ and I wasn’t ‘doing enough’. He, uh, do you remember those TV interviews they made us do?” (Aaron nods.) “He used to give me notes on appearing… nicer, kinder, more vulnerable. He would get mad whenever we appeared in front of the media, he had this… grip, on my elbow, that looked so… loving, it wasn’t. It…” you shudder a little at the memory, your shoulders rising as if to protect yourself. “I should’ve seen it.”

“No,” Aaron says forcefully and he reaches over to squeeze your hand. “You can’t blame yourself. That’s what he wants--wanted--you to do. And it’s not your fault.” You drop your eyes from his face but Aaron’s standing from his seat and dropping to his knees in front of you, and looking up at you softly. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, Aar, it’s just--”

“No ‘just’, he was a controlling and abusive asshole and I’m sorry we didn’t see it, or help you.”

“I was angry when he died,” you admit. “The first time.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, and looks at you like he’s got all the time in the world.

“Because I wanted to do it. I know that’s awful, I had no idea what he was doing, to me or to Saskia, or to anyone else, I just wanted him to stop. That’s not a nice thought to have.” 

“And the second time?”

“Fucking satisfying.” You sigh and, surprisingly, Aaron grins at you. He presses a kiss to the top of your thigh.

“Good,” he says. 

You drop the cookie onto the table and brush the backs of your fingers along his hair. 

“Never thought I’d hear you say ‘good’ to that.”

“If it wasn’t satisfying I’d jump right into the Styx and pull that asshole back so you could rip him a new one.”

You smirk at the Hercules reference and cup his face. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d prefer if you didn’t.” 

“I’ll note that down.” He pries your hands off his face and cups them before him, holding your fingers to his mouth. “Whatever Felix told you, however he treated you, that’s not because of you. It’s because of him. You’re a good woman, a good mother, and a good agent, and you did that. Not him.”

“You reckon?” you say quietly. 

“I know,” he smiles, pressing a light kiss to your fingers. “Do you want some tea?” 

You shake your head, no, but you’re quietly saying ‘yes’ because Aaron looks so nervous and lost. He nods, dropping your hands to your lap. His eyes don’t break from your face, even when he stands. For a second he looks like he might turn around but then he sighs softly, his shoulders slumping.

“I love you, and I’m so sorry about everything that you’ve been through.” God, he looks like he’s about to cry. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that.” You give him your bravest smile but it doesn’t seem to soothe him at all.

“Can I give you a hug?” he says, and this time you actually feel the smile that tugs at your lips. Nodding, you stand and wrap your arms around Aaron. He practically folds around you, as though protecting you from the world. 

It’s not the first time you’ve noticed it, surely, but it’s the first time your brain has fully registered it. He feels like home, smells like something that you’ve been missing--underneath his cologne and body wash. How he manages to hold those scents for the whole day, you’ll never know. By the end of the day you swear you smell like whatever you had for lunch and whatever new hand cream Emily’s given you to try. It’s the kind of familiarity that feels like a forcefield has bubbled around the both of you, and you don’t know that you’re sobbing into his chest until you’re swallowing at the air to try and refill your lungs.

He doesn’t murmur pointless words of affirmations, the ones that fall on deaf ears because everyone says them. He just squeezes you tight, one hand pressed against your back, the other to the back of your head, face pressed into your neck. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have known that he’d started crying too.

“I’m sorry, Aar,” you mumble into him. “Please don’t, uh… please don’t ever feel like you were a shit friend. You were there when I needed you. You and Haley both, I promise.”

Before Aaron can respond your phone rings, making both of you jump. You pull it out your pocket, smiling at the photo of Saskia that pops up. 

“Hey Sweetie Pie,” you sniffle leaning into Aaron’s chest. 

“Are you crying? Is Dad there?” 

You roll your eyes at how direct she is. “Yeah, Dad’s here.” Aaron wipes his cheeks on the back of his hand and sniffs. 

“Ooo, ooo, ooooo, can you put it on loud speaker? I wanna tell Dad what I got.” You think you can hear her launching onto Haley’s spare bed as you put the phone on loudspeaker.

“Saskia says she has something important,” you half explain but Saskia’s already tutting at you.

“It’s not important, I just got a bunch of stuff.” You can hear Haley in the background telling Saskia it’s almost time for bed. “So, so, Auntie Haley and I went and saw Inkheart and it was so cool, they could read people out of books, and I want to take Spence to see it, but that’s not important. Anyway, no, we went shopping after because Jack needs more clothes, and I got a sketchbook. A new one, and it’s got flowers on the front, and Auntie Haley said if it’s okay tomorrow we can all go to the museum and I can practice drawing things. Like you used to.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” you smile, looking up at Aaron who runs the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks, clearing your tear lines.

“She said all of us: you, dad, me, Jack, her. If work doesn’t call, because it always does, and that’s why we don’t make plans. But she said she’d text you about it later. But can we though, pretty please?”

“Yes, Sweetie, we can, I’m sure,” you smile. Aaron nods, squeezing your shoulders.

“We can make that work,” he adds. 

Saskia practically squeals. “You’re the best, best, best--” she keeps going for far longer than she should. “Okay, I’ve gotta put my stuff away, and then I’m going to read cause Spence says it helps you sleep.”

“Alright Sweetie,” you say quietly. “I’m glad you had fun today.”

“Night Mom, Night Dad, I love you!!!” With all her enthusiasm, you think she might wake Jack if he’s asleep.

“I love you too,” you say back and Aaron echoes you before Saskia hangs up and your chin quivers but you’re still smiling.

Aaron brushes your hair behind your ear when you pocket your phone again. “Don’t you ever feel like a shit mother, you’re a really good one, promise. The best one I know.” His eyes flicker over your face like he’s making sure you’re listening to him.

“Besides Haley,” you add through a sniff. Aaron pulls an incredulous face and kisses you softly.

“Yes, besides Haley.” Then he’s pulling away heading into the kitchen and grabbing two tea mugs. “Y’know Saskia does that too,” he says, passing you a kleenex.

“Does what?” you ask as you blow your nose. 

“‘Let me give you a certain thing I’m happy to do with you’,” he says in a weirdly comical imitation of himself. Then he raises one finger like Saskia does when she’s trying to make a point. “‘Besides this person who does it just as good’.”

You giggle, and it does it’s job of lifting your spirits. 

You rifle through Haley’s hamper, rolling your eyes at the caramel and marshmallow flavoured lube, condoms, scented candles. You roll your eyes, putting them back in, then see the envelope at the bottom of the hamper. 

You open it, pulling out photograph after photograph of you, Haley and Aaron. Mainly from school, the three of you are far too young. The last is a polaroid you barely remember taking.

It's after closing night of Pirates of Penzance, judging by the amount of glitter the three of you are covered in. You're on a tattered couch that had been discarded in the basement greenroom. Haley's smooshing Aaron's cheek up against hers, her other arm pulling your body on top of hers so the three of you could fit in the frame. It's weird to think that none of you had been drinking. Haley's curly handwriting has somehow managed to fit "forever & always" in the white space beneath the photo. 

You smile, placing it down on the table. There's a second, almost A4 photograph, of the three of you at your wedding. It’s a candid, and Felix is nowhere to be seen. The three of you are at the base of a tree--you didn’t even know there were trees at your wedding, or the reception, or wherever it was taken. 

You have no idea what Haley’s giving you, but you look ecstatic to be getting it. The three of you just… look happy. Haley’s taped a sticky note to the back that you half-frown-half-smile at.

‘Thought you could do with some photos for your wall,’ she’s written. ‘It used to be the three of us, we can do it again. <3’ Then she’s printed, in big, block letters: ‘Talk to him. I mean it.’

You roll your eyes as Aaron comes out with your tea, passing it to you. 

“What’re these?” he asks, picking a couple up.

“Haley sent photos,” you smile. He nods, murmuring ‘I can see that’, then he flicks one in his hand and walks off. You frown after him, but he’s back just as quick as he left with a dusty photo frame.

He dusts it off against his pants, replaces whatever photo is in it, and puts it next to his TV. It’s a photograph of you and Aaron, at the gala. Millie’s shoulder is just in the frame, but ultimately it’s the way Aaron’s looking at you that makes your heart flutter.

“Who took that?” you ask softly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“Prentiss, I had it as my phone background for weeks.” 

“I never saw it.”

“You should snoop more,” Aaron grins, kissing your temple.

“And how did Haley get a hold of it?”

“She snooped.”

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “Can I be honest, for a second, Aar?”

“Of course.”

“Spence said something today, amongst all his ramblings, and it got me thinking. And, I blame Hales.” You wrap an arm around his waist and squeeze him. “I want to be ‘whatever comes at us’, but, truthfully, I wasn’t when I got that negative pregnancy test. But with our jobs it’s weird to admit that something going not-the-way-you-expected kind of throws you for a loop.” 

Aaron sighs, and you think it’s in relief. “Me too. You just seemed so fine with it and I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Aren’t we just a fine and dandy couple,” you murmur.

“Yeah, so much for communication.” 

You tilt your head up to him, kissing him lightly. He sighs when he pulls away and kisses your forehead.

“Let me get changed,” he says into your forehead. “Then I’ll make us dinner.”

“I can make dinner,” you offer but he’s shaking his head.

“Don’t fight me on this. I’m making us dinner.”

***

You’re in one of Aaron’s old shirts, curled up on the couch, as Aaron cooks dinner, humming quietly to himself. Sometimes he asks you one or two things, or asks if you want wine. Every now and then he comes over with a teaspoon asking if you can taste something even though you’ve got no idea what he’s actually making.

However, it’s not curiosity about dinner that pulls you off the couch, but rather curiosity about Haley’s hamper. You grab the caramel lube box out, popping the lid ad pulling out a note from Haley. As much as you love her, you really wish there wasn’t a note.

‘Bought these for someone special but right now it’s a lonely world, and lonely doesn’t want flavours’ she’s written and if Aaron wasn’t near you, you’d probably make a mocking gag noise. You open the lube, pulling the seal free, and squirt some on your finger.

It feels nice, notably, and smells incredible. You rub it between your thumb and forefinger, then test it against your tongue.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, because, fuck, does it taste amazing. Aar hums questioningly and you clean your finger off--the taste not divulging into the usual bitter lube taste--then squirt some more on, repeating the action, then join Aaron in the kitchen.

“Smell, taste,” you say, sticking your finger under his nose. He does as he’s told, handing you the wooden spoon to stir the pan, and sniffing your finger.

“What is it?” he says.

“Taste.”

He narrows his eyes at you, then takes your finger in his mouth. It stays in there for far too long to just be a taste, then he’s pulling off with a soft ‘pop’. 

“Is that lube?” he asks as he studies your hands distinct lack of caramel colouring.

“Yes, sir, and for dessert if you want.”

The way he looks at you is all the confirmation you need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part One: here's a story i planned out a lot  
> Part Two: here's some trauma to work through and i forgot conflict thnx  
> ~Aaron "can I give you a hug" Hotchner has returned~  
> `~also: a friend and i found caramel lube before the year that is 2020 and the lady working kept laughing at us cause we kept tasting it with no intent to buy it, and I think about it almost every day.~`  
> ~~Next up: the use of Haley's gifts, and some... interesting Haley times~~


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: cute-shit-head Hotch ahead.

Dinner was incredible and leads to Aaron putting on bargain bin movie (which is, apparently, the only type of movie he owns) with you tucked under his arm. He nuzzles into your neck before the movie even gets off the ground, kissing at your neck. You sigh, tilting your head for easier access, eyes falling half shut.

"I love you," he murmurs into your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap, your back to his chest. 

"Love you too, Aar," you breathe and he nods into your neck. The movie goes unwatched, you're both far too preoccupied. 

Aaron's hand works its way under your (his) shirt, hands cupping your breasts as he practically feasts on your neck and it occurs to you, as Aaron's teeth brush against the shell of your ear, that you're very glad there's no work tomorrow. 

"Do you want to take this to the bedroom?" He murmurs into your ear and you force your eyes open, turning your head to look at him and he captures your lips with his. 

“What if I want to finish the movie?” you tease, even though both of you know that you’re not watching. He sighs dramatically, kissing your cheek, and he nods, the hand that was fondling your breast wondering down your stomach, fingers brushing at the top of your underwear.

When he finally gets under the elastic his fingers slowly inch their way to your centre, thick fingers brushing against your clit a little more forcefully than you expected. You bite back a tiny whimper and Aaron mouths at your neck.

“Concentrate, Love, you ‘re the one who wants to finish the movie,” he teases, massaging you. He smirks when your head falls back against his shoulder and your tiny sounds of frustrated displeasure that could have said ‘Prick’.

His fingers brush against your entrance and you buck into him, earning a quiet, yet amused, ‘tutt’. He pulls back until you’re quiet again, then repeats his action. Not ten minutes later you’re a blubbering mess, head thrown back against his shoulder as you roll against his fingers, against his thigh, trying to get any sort of friction.

“Aar, please,” you breathe, as he dips his fingers into you and curls them.

“Please what, Love?” he says against you, voice vibrating in his chest.

“I need--” his thumb flicks against your clit and for the moment your words are completely lost. 

“Need what?” he breathes against your ear. 

“You,” you whimper in response. 

“Full sentences, Love,” he coos and his fingers work faster. “Full sentences.”

“Aar -- fuck -- Aar --” you’re whimpering against him, his request rattling in your head. “Aar, please, I --” your words catch in your throat and you’re quick to swallow the moan that threatens to escape. “I need you,” you say quickly. 

“I’m sure you do,” he whispers. “Later.” His fingers don’t slow and he shows no sign of stopping, your breath shallow and quick arching against Aaron’s shoulder, pushing into his fingers. 

Your eyes flutter as the knot in your stomach builds, trying to fight back your orgasm, but Aaron murmurs into your ear and keeps going until your orgasm rakes through your body. He coaxes you down, fingers slowing.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. You smile softly, turning your face to his.

“Say it again,” you whisper. 

“Hmm?” Aaron hums, but then it seems to click for him and he kisses your cheek. “You’re such a good girl,” he coos, peeling your hair from the thin layer of sweat over your face. You nod, closing your eyes with a small smile over your face. 

“Thank-you,” you whisper. He peppers kisses over your face, cupping your cheek as you breathe against him. “Bedroom?” you offer, but he presses his lips to your forehead. 

“Give yourself a minute, there’s no rush.” 

You whine against him, even though you’re not entirely going to fight it. You run your hand down his chest, smirking when your hands fall to a wet patch on his sweatpants. 

“You mean you need a minute,” you tease and he huffs.

“Yes.”

You push his hair back, letting it stick up between your fingers. “I love you,” you whisper, tracing your finger down his face. He blushes under your touch, leaning into it. 

“I love you too,” he murmurs, then he’s pulling your face to his, your lips meeting with all the softness he can manage. You twist in his lap so that you’re facing him, pressing your body flush against his.

He moans into your mouth as your fingers card through his hair, as they leave his hair you rest them on the back of the couch. One of Aaron’s hands finds the back of your neck, the other tracing lines up and down your spine lightly. A tingle down your spine follows his fingertips, you pull back from the kiss, resting your forehead against his as you catch your breath, smiling at how he looks with his precious swollen lips.

“You look really nice like this,” you smile and Aaron looks at you lazily.

“You do too,” he says back, fingers never stopping it’s trail of up and down your spine. 

You stay like that for a while, breathing each other in, existing in each other’s space, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so close to another person. He seems to catch the thought, with the way he looks at you, then pulls you into a hug, rocking the two of you slowly and comfortingly. 

“Can we take this to the bedroom?” you whisper into his ear. He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your back, holding you against him as he leans forward and turns off the TV. 

“I’ll meet you there,” he smiles as he falls against the back of the couch. You nod, climbing off his lap and running your hands through his hair as you walk around the couch to the front door, double checking that the front door is locked.

It’s a habit you both agreed on, you took it in turns checking the doors are locked. It’s a lot easier at Aaron’s, there’s only one door to religiously check, but at home you do the front door and Aaron does the back door (the side door where Felix got in has been blocked by a bookcase now, but every now and then Aaron checks it anyway). 

He watches you for a moment, then he’s standing and wandering down the hallway with a slight bounce to his step. You eye off the lube that you’ve put back in the basket, but then there’s no harm in it (and the caramel is just… so good), so you snatch it up and follow Aaron. 

The door to his office is slightly ajar, something that Aaron would never do, and curiosity has you pushing it open (just to check that everything’s in place, then you’ll close it again). Only you find that Aaron’s moved everything to one wall--casefiles, books, desk--it’s all sitting there in piles, while the other half of the room is half transformed into a bedroom.

There’s a collection of Saskia’s toys piled in the far corner. Perfectly piled, it’s very obvious that Aaron’s piled it, a couple of them are positioned like they’re squaring up for a fight. You recognise them as the handful that Saskia’s taken and ‘forgotten to pick up’, which had become a religious activity for both Jack and Saskia. The air mattress is rolled up next to them, and a bedframe that has yet to be put together is propped up against the wall. 

“You’re not supposed to see that yet,” Aaron chuckles, putting his hands over your eyes as he comes up behind you. 

“Aar,” you whine and he presses a kiss to your neck. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Jack and I were planning on surprising you and Saskia,” he murmurs. “We do a little bit every time he’s over.” Then he’s trying to pull you back, with his hands still on your eyes.

“You’re very cute,” you smile, reaching behind you and tickling him-albeit weakley. He turns you towards his room, sending you towards it with a quick and playful smack to your butt.

You giggle, casting a quick look over your shoulder at him. He pulls the door closed and he’s glaring at you playfully. There’s a beat where neither of you do anything, then you pull your shirt off and drop it to the floor. 

The sound Aaron’s makes… Gosh does it make you laugh. Then he’s barreling towards you, catching you by the waist and spinning you around before you’re both collapsing onto the mattress. Aaron places open mouthed kisses all over your chest, nipping at the soft skin of your breasts.

“So beautiful,” he breathes as he catches a nipple in his mouth, tongue flicking against it, his other hand massaging at your opposite breast.

“Shirt,” you breathe, grabbing at his shirt. He looks up at you, then lets your breast go, pulling his shirt off. You let your hands roam over his bare chest, then pull him to you, attacking his neck with kisses. You pull his sweatpants down as far as you can and then he kicks the rest off.

“Lie down,” you murmur and Aaron does exactly as you say. 

You can’t help the smile that twitches at the corner of your mouth at the sight of him so preciously splayed out before you. Squirting lube onto your hand you take him in hand, stroking him. The way he squirms at your touch makes your heart do somersaults, and by the look of him, it does the same thing to Aaron.

But there’s only so long you can have him squirming underneath you, you’re not as patient as he is. Not right now. Aaron picks up on it, flipping the two of you so quickly that you bounce against his mattress with a small laugh. He lines himself up with you, kissing you as he slides in. 

He gets in just the right position that you’ve returned to being a blubbering mess within moments. Your hands fists in the sheets as Aaron sucks bruises into your neck, his moans muffled against your neck, where yours fill the room until you’re immensely glad that the kids aren’t at the apartment. 

When you come it’s far from quiet and you think Aaron mutters something about a noise complaint, but it’s lost in your haze, and how strangely safe it feels when Aaron collapses on top of you, taking you in his arms. You stay like that for a while, his face buried into your neck, until he pulls out and collapses onto his side of the bed. He takes a few deep breaths, then he’s nestling you into his chest.

“I don’t want to get up,” you whine into him and he squeezes your shoulders. 

“Fifteen minutes?” he offers, looking at his clock and you nod. 

It’s an unsaid agreement that you both just lie there silently for the fifteen minutes. You draw circles on his chest while he taps methodically against your shoulder, sometimes turning and kissing your hair. When the fifteen minutes are up Aaron groans, lifting himself from the bed. 

“I’ll start the shower,” he smiles, running the backs of his fingers over your forehead. You hum sleepily, reaching out for his hand lazily. He lets you catch his fingers, then smiles as he walks away.

He’s back far too soon, coaxing you out of bed. You both shower, you’re mainly desperately trying to stay awake while leaning against his shoulder. You’re not entirely sure how the two of you end up in bed, with clothes on, but you do, Aaron’s face nestled against your neck. 

“Night,” he mumbles.

“Night,” you whisper back into the darkness.

***

“Aaron,” you groan as you look at your reflection in the mirror. You’re littered in bruises all over your chest and neck, ones that really can’t be hidden by makeup. If you had any at Aaron’s place. He kisses them as he passes you, handing you one of the shirts you’d left at his place last time.

“You look very pretty,” he smiles, brushing his fingertips against the ones he doesn’t kiss.

“I’m going to end your career,” you grumble but he’s already leaving the bathroom like he hasn’t heard you. 

He passes you breakfast when you come out, eyes glistening over your neck where you’ve--unsuccessfully--tried to hide the hickies. 

“Haley’s meeting us at the museum at nine,” he says. “Saskia’s sent a thousand text messages to us, I swear.”

“She’s just excited,” you smile and he kisses you lightly. 

“I know,” he smiles. “Do you want to drop by yours to see if you can get something that covers…” his eyes linger way too long on your neck and you swat him playfully.

“It’ll be fine.”

He shrugs and picks up his keys, heading to the door. Which is when you catch a glimpse of his hickies, which you’ve somehow managed to hide from eyesight unless he’s looking away from you. You smirk, tugging at the back of his shirt.

“You’re the one who needs to change,” you tease, nipping at the sensitive skin at the back of his neck. Aaron goes dark red and refuses to look at you.

“Tell Haley we’ll be late,” he grumbles as he heads back to his room.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~some quality healing time for today~

Haley’s got a death grip on your arm as Aaron weaves his way through the taxidermy animals, Jack on one hand and Saskia on the other. Every now and then you can hear the three of them trying to imitate what ever noises the animals would have made once upon a time, and everytime one of the various mothers and single women (and a couple of guys too, you note) look at Aaron with these soft-gooey eyes, you and Haley divulge into giggles. 

“Did you two talk?” Haley prods, resting her chin on your shoulder.

“Yes, Haley,” you whine, sliding the two of you between a touring group that are completely oblivious to anyone else around them. Aaron’s got Jack on his shoulders, Saskia dragging him along in circles as the boys rifle through animal sounds. “Hales?”

“Uh huh?” she slides her hand down to yours, waving to Saskia, who’s satisfied with it and she dives back into the people.

“How do you really feel about me and Aaron? Being together? It can’t be easy.” 

She looks like she’s debating lying to you, but then she gives your hand a tight squeeze. “It’s not. But you… I don’t want him to be unhappy, really. Or you. It’s just that we didn’t work out, I thought having Jack would have him home more but then the world just went back to normal.”

“I know how that feels,” you smile weakly. 

“He’s still my best friend,” she says quietly like she’s scared he’ll overhear. “And it sucks not seeing him everyday, but… I don’t know. He wasn’t my husband anymore, we were just two people living together with a kid and wedding bands. He belonged to the job first, and then to us.”

You let go of her hand to wrap her up into a side hug, squeezing her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“But, hey, it’s like the universe knew and chucked you right back into our lives,” Haley smiles, poking at your side. “You and Aaron balance each other out.”

“If ‘balance each other out’ means I glare at him from the bullpen until he says he’ll go home before midnight, sure.”

“No, I mean, this,” Haley says, pointing to Aaron and the kids. Then she pulls Aaron’s phone out of your handbag, holds it under your nose, then drops it back into your bag. “And that. He never parts with that.”

“Haley,” you gasp like she’s cursed you. “Touching it brings seven years of bad luck.”

“Don’t I know it,” she laughs. “You’re good for each other. How did you even cross that line anyway? Highschool you and Aaron were practically siblings.” 

“We were,” you nod. “I don’t know how it became anything else.” Haley scrunches up her face and you laugh. “Emotional crossing or physical crossing?” 

Haley gasps like you’re fifteen again. “When was your first kiss? Was it super romantic? Aaron made us wait forever,” she groans.

“Actually,” you say slowly, blowing out your cheeks. “It was during a case.”

“What?!” Haley screeches and the whole room falls silent for a second, then chatter picks up again, and you’re both uncomfortably warm. 

“I’ll tell you later,” you hiss but Haley’s shaking her head furiously.

“Nuh uh, you tell me now.”

“We were on a case in this shitty small town that had a festival on, I mean it was packed,” you say and Haley’s looking at you like she’s hanging onto every word. “They fucked up hotel reservations and we ended up in this awful, shabby thing. I mean it was falling apart, the bathroom light didn’t even work properly and we shared with this shoe-sized cockroach.”

“Aaron would have loved it,” Haley says dryly, but her lips quirk. “He hates cockroaches.”

“He screamed worse than Saskia!” you laugh and Haley joins you, covering her mouth with her hand because there are people still staring at the two of you. “Anyway, he tried to wake me from a nightmare and I punched him in the face.”

“You guys kissed because you punched him in the face?”

“I succumbed to a rare moment of physical affection with him,” you say trying to keep your face straight. “I had an ice pack in my bag, but I did that ‘I’ve been hanging out with a kid for too long’ thing and decided it would just be easier if I kissed it better.”

Haley snorts. “Of course,” she says with a smile and she shakes her head. “Of course. I don’t know why I expected anything different.”

“Hey,” Aaron says as he circles back to the two of you. Saskia’s looking at the taxidermy giraffe, head tilted back with her mouth slightly agape. “We’re going to get food before it gets busy.”

Jack’s hands grope at Aaron’s face, finally landing on Aaron’s eyes which makes him shake his head, trying to loosen Jack’s grip, but he’s smiling like an idiot. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Haley smiles. She reaches up and pries Jack’s hands from Aaron’s eyes. “Daddy’s gotta see,” she says softly and Jack nods.

“Okay,” Jack says, fists his hands in Aaron’s hair and tugs like he’s steering a horse. “Let’s go see Saski.”

Aaron nods, eyes lingering on the two of you, then he smiles before twirling at Jack’s hair tugging command.

And everything’s right in the world.

***

Saskia and Jack are choosing donuts with the cash you’ve given Saskia when Haley breaks the awkward tension at the table. She leans over and puts her hand over Aaron’s and you’re not sure what she’s about to say. But then:

“Can we be friends again?” she asks quietly. “I know we’ve got a lot of complicated history, Aaron, but we were best friends for so long and it really sucks not being able to talk to you.”

You drop your eyes into your lap, trying to hide whatever emotion comes across your face. 

“We’ll still have bad days, sure, and I know I messed up and I understand if that’s not a bridge you want to repair, but I really miss you.” There’s a silence that falls over the table then Haley sighs. “I miss being us, the three of us. Doing stuff like this. We used to all the time.”

“I know,” he says smugly. “I guessed by all the photographs you put in the hamper.”

Reluctantly you look up, glancing between the two of them. Haley looks like she’s about to cry, Aaron’s face is impassable, completely emotionless, like he does whenever he’s processing things. He does it to the team all the time.

“I would like to be friends again,” Aaron says simply. “That would be really nice. I’ve really missed talking to you, too.”

Saskia and Jack come back to the table, dumping the paper bags of donuts and clambering onto their seats. Saskia opens each one then she finds the one she’s looking for and puts it in front of you.

“I got your favourite,” she smiles and scoots her chair closer to you, resting her head on your arm. 

“Thanks Sweet,” you respond, kissing her hair. “You doing okay?”

She nods and yawns, picking her donut apart with her fingers and getting icing everywhere before she plops a tiny piece in her mouth and chews it slowly. You raise an eyebrow at Haley like she’ll be able to explain it, but she shakes her head, looking just as confused. 

You leave her be, because she says she’s fine, and honestly she could just be tired. The plan is to spend the hours until Jack’s naptime in the museum, but Saskia’s clutched to your arm like she’s completely dependent on you. She squeezes your hand in groups of three pulses every now and then, presses her face into your arm whenever noises are too loud. 

Your eyes fall on a tiny souvenir shop that seems mostly deserted and you drop to Saskia’s height. “Do you want to help me find birthday presents for Dad, Hales and Jack that we can put away?” 

Finally she smiles a little and looks excited. You push her hair out of her face and kiss her forehead, tugging on Aaron’s sleeve as he passes.

“We’re going to look at the shop, I’ll text you if we end up somewhere else.” 

“Okay,” he smiles, kissing you lightly and brushing Saskia’s head softly as you pass. 

She spends most of the time walking circles around the shop, then the last round she returns to you with an armful of stuff. A stuffed panda for Haley, a white tiger for Aaron, a normal tiger for Jack, a giraffe for herself. She hands you a Serval and smiles.

“They’re soft,” she says by way of explanation and she’s not wrong. You’re already stroking the Serval like it’s a real cat. “I also want to get a snowglobe for Dad’s and Auntie Haley’s.”

“Sounds good,” you nod and take the toys from her, and she dives back into the shelves. When you finally emerge from the shop you’ve got more than you’ve bargained for, but Saskia’s in a far better mood, and Jack’s asleep in Haley’s arms. You part once Haley’s got Jack in the car, Saskia sits in the back of Aaron’s car tapping at her leg. 

“Is she okay?” Aaron asks softly as he closes the door. 

“Yeah. She’s probably tired.” 

He nods, hugging you briefly. “I’ll get you back to yours then.”

***

Like usual, Aaron finds new paperwork to do. He’s curled up on the couch with a pen between his teeth, laptop balanced on his knees, while he flicks through papers. Despite you also picking up your paperwork, you barely get anything done.

One minute you’re reading through a casefile, the next you wake with a blanket over you, and Aaron and Saskia talking softly. You’re not sure what about, but it’s perfect background noise and you don’t open your eyes. Not until Aaron squeezes your ankle, only then do you pry your eyes open enough to look at him.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Strauss wants me in the office. Dinner should be here in ten, I ordered you guys take out. Saskia chose.”

“Saint,” you murmur back. “Be safe.”

“It’s the office,” he says. “Probably the safest place I can be.”

You lazily reach up, patting his cheek. “Don’t you ever say that again. It’ll curse the entire place.”

He smirks, knocking on the coffee table. “Knock on wood. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you.” 

“Love you too,” he smiles then he’s leaving. 

Saskia waits until Aaron’s car’s left to run into the lounge. 

“Can we watch Hannah Montana now Dad’s gone?” she asks excitedly. You pull a confused face at her and nod.

“You can watch it with him here,” you laugh but Saskia’s shaking her head violently.

“I never, ever want to hear Dad say ‘Sweet Niblets’ and if he watches he will. I know it in my heart of hearts.” She sets everything up then climbs onto the couch, lying down in front of you and using the remote against her palm to clap. “It’s nice that Auntie Haley and Dad are friends again.”

“Yes it is.” You smile into her hair and wrap your arms around her, holding her close to you. 

And for the second time that day, everything's right.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~two chapters for the day, with a little Rossi flavour dipped in~

Moving into your office is an ordeal. 

The day Strauss lets you, she also gives you hundreds meetings that you’re running to and from for the whole day. The most you get to do is drop a box on the floor. The second day you’re bombarded with psych evals for a team on the floor below you (not one of them pass, and you have to try an explain THAT to Erin), then the team are called to a case that comes to Reid after a recruitment lecture (you’re grateful you say can so ‘no thanks’ to that one) but you still end up helping Garcia out for most of the case.

When you finally manage to get ten minutes, you set up your office. There’s a couple of things that Garcia dropped in your office that you find a place for (like an elephant stress ball and a neon pink sand hourglass), and Morgan got you a little engraved pen that you couldn’t possibly use (ever, it’s so beautiful). Rossi had shoved a present into your top drawer--a Piglet to go with your Eeyore which makes you roll your eyes. Prentiss gave you, hilariously, a two way baby monitor so you could “keep an eye on the bullpen”. 

Spencer hangs in your doorway a long time, like he’s taking it in, until you motion to the shitty leather couch that every office seems to have and he nods, collapsing onto it.

“Your working profile says nothing about an aversion to personal items,” Spence says suddenly and you jump a little, cocking your head at him.

“What do you mean, Spence? I have personal items.”

“No photographs,” he says. “You’ve got all these small things from us, and…” he picks up a mason jar full of lollipops from your box, “this from Saskia, but there’s not one photograph. Hotch has a picture of Jack on his desk that he looks at to remind himself why he does this job, and Rossi has them to remind himself that sometimes it turns out okay. You don’t have anything.”

You cast your eyes around the room, and he’s not wrong. It kind of makes your heart break that it’s so obvious.

“You’d like to know why?” you deduce, taking the mason jar from him and positioning it on your desk. He nods, looking at you like he really is your child. “I have no control who comes in and out of this place. While we’d like to think our offices, and the bullpen, are safe… Well, Felix kind of showed me that it wasn’t. I didn’t bring Saskia into this world to be put in danger, and I can’t control who comes in and out of here, but I can control who sees her. No photographs, no one knows.”

“That’s a very articulate way of explaining your anxieties,” he says.

“Thanks,” you say with mock pride. “That’s years of therapy for you.” You watch him as he searches your shelves with his eyes, then you pop the lollipop jar open and hold it out to him. “Want one?”

“Yeah!” he says a little too enthusiastically and dives his hand into the jar, picking out a green one. You don’t say anything about how green is the second worst flavour, next to orange. But from the shy look Spence gives you, you think he already knows.

“Did you want to talk about something, Spence?” You pull out a flower vase with a bunch of fabric roses in it with a little tag on it from Aaron. 

‘They can’t die while you’re away on a case -A’ he’s written. You smirk, placing it on your bookshelf. 

“Do you think I’m a magnet for bad people?” he asks simply. 

“No,” you say with a small frown, turning to him. “Why would you think that, Spence?”

“The case we just had is the second time someone’s specifically found me because they wanted me to solve it. I don’t… I don’t like it.”

“You’re not supposed to like it,” you say softly, perching on the edge of your desk. “It’s easy to remember the bad stuff, and link that with us, because it’s easy to forget the good stuff because the good stuff is always happening.”

“How do you do it? Remember the good stuff?”

“Truthfully?” you ask, and Spencer nods. “With a lot of hard work. Friend’s help. Talking to them, letting them help you even if it is just a meal or a drink.”

Spence nods. “Ok. Thanks.” Then he stands, says his goodbyes, and he’s walking aimlessly down the hall. He backtracks a few moments later, tapping his fingers against his lips. “Control,” he says. “Is that why you don’t wear your engagement ring? I’m guessing you and Hotch haven’t told us because you want JJ there, and you don’t wear your engagement ring at the office because of that. But you wore it the other weekend.”

“The weekend?” you say, raising an eyebrow.

“You were at the museum as I was leaving, Saskia was picking up toys I didn’t want to disturb her,” Spence says dismissively. “My mom mentioned it too, she said you wore it as a necklace. And Morgan said you were holding it when you talked to Saskia, but he’s pretty sure that it’s her birthstone.”

“Yeah, Spence, that’s why I don’t wear it.”

“Hotch can look after himself,” Spence says like it’ll comfort you. “Mom says we’re not nearly as important as we think we are, so really wearing your ring won’t change anything.”

“Thanks, Spence,” you say and he smiles goofily at you.

“I won’t tell them,” he says, then he’s leaving again. 

He’s replaced moments later by Rossi, who also hovers in your doorway. 

“Come in, I don’t think I’ve had enough visitors.”

He enters, staring at you, then he pulls the door closed. “You’re doing this because you want to, yes?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not taking this job because you’re mad at me, right Kid?” It’s soft, and hurt, and you blink back tears that threaten to fall. 

“No,” you say and your voice breaks a little. “I’m not taking this job because I’m upset, I’m sorry that I made you think that.”

“Good,” he breathes. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m really sorry I kept your mom’s death from you for so long. I’m sorry that I lied to you.”

“I’m sorry that you had to,” you say softly. “The worst part is I understand, and I think--maybe--that’s why I was so mad. It’s not water under the bridge, but I’d like it to be, one day.”

“Me too, Kid.”

“We can’t tell Dad, okay? Not ever. It’ll break him.”

“Agreed. Have you told Hotch?”

You shake your head softly. “Kind of. I had a moment, and gave him the report. It’s really all I could manage.”

“Understood. Nice office.”

“Spence grilled me about my lack of photographs,” you smile, picking up the remnants of the box and placing them throughout your office. 

“Keeping everyone safe,” Dave says like he understands. “Saskia is a very lucky girl to have you as a mother.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s she doing?” Dave asks, taking a seat on your couch and brushing the leather with his fingers like he’s peeling a layer of dust off it.

“She’s okay,” you say slowly, sitting down at your desk. “She gets overwhelmed sometimes, but don’t we all. But she’s doing better at school.”

“Does she sleep at night?” 

You half nod. “Not always, but most times. She stays in bed now, unless she’s had a nightmare, which is getting less.”

“Do you still sleep with your door open?”

You narrow your eyes at him because you hadn’t told him, then nod slowly. “Yeah.”

“It will pass,” he tells you. “It always does.”

“I don’t feel like it ever will.”

“When you were… younger than Saskia, maybe four, you came back from a holiday with your Mom and she wouldn’t let you out of her sight. Or you wouldn’t let her out of yours. I remember you came to my house for dinner and you were fine until you went to go upstairs. It was like your whole world came crashing down. She slept in your room for months, first your bed, then a camper, then she kind of edged her way out until you could sleep by yourself again. I have no idea what happened, but it passed. She thought it wouldn’t, but it did.”

“Dave? Why were you always at my house?” you ask. “There’s hardly a memory I have of my childhood where you’re not present, until Mom died, and then you kind of petered out once Dad got better.” It clicks and you frown at him. “Were you having an affair with Mom?”

“No,” he says simply. He stands, brushes off his pants, and heads towards your door like he’s been caught red handed but he’s not… lying.

“With Dad?”

“No,” he repeats. “Everything that happened between the three of us was consensual.” 

He’s leaving before you can fully process the information, and when you do you’re hanging out the door, thinking about all the stupid things you could say to him to make him even more uncomfortable, but settle on simply saying:

“Does that mean I have to call you ‘Dad the second’?” you call after him.

And for the first time ever, David Rossi flips you the bird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I believe I've said it before, but I swear everyone in this fic is bisexual~


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter exist in the white space between "Soul Mates" and "Bloodline" (Todd's last episode.)

You finally get to reintroduce yourself to Todd as you're using the photocopier. She's muttering something silently to herself, then looking at the photocopy and groaning. 

"BAU?" you ask and she nods. "I'll let you in on a secret, if it's the first case of the month you can just print all the files for everyone. JJ does it all the time."

"Wouldn't they know?" 

"Absolutely," you smile. "But we don't really care. Trust me, when there’s a case the last thing we’re thinking about is whether it’s on printer paper or photocopy paper. And it won’t show up on the budget.”

“Huh,” she says quietly. “Thanks.”

“Agent Y/L/N,” you introduce, shaking her hand. “You must be Agent Todd.”

“Uh, yeah, we missed meeting each other twice. JJ said you’ve got a little girl that you’re very dedicated to.”

You smile and nod, remembering that the first time JJ wanted to introduce you to Todd you’d been running late for a parent teacher interview (or were about to run late if you had stopped) and you’d had to just wave and run.

“I do,” you smile. “She’s a handful, but aren’t all kids?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Todd says softly. 

You shrug in response. “Are the team treating you nicely? Hotch kind of… marches to the beat of his own drum.”

You note that she doesn’t look at you suspiciously, or even hesitate, to scoff her agreement. You mentally note not to tell her anything about Saskia that you don’t want shared. 

“He’s a tough boss, but he’s a good boss,” she says and you nod with her. “He shows almost no emotion, you only know when you’ve done a bad thing. Never when you’ve done a good thing.”

“Oh, I know,” you smile. “Hotch is a tough cookie to crack, but if he’s not telling you off, assume you’re doing the right thing.” 

As if you’ve summoned him he walks through the door, brushing his hand against your lower back as he approaches as though to warn you then drops the car keys into your hand.

“Strauss is keeping me for meetings,” he says, then picks up the case files you’re photocopying so you don’t write on the originals. He looks them over once then puts it back in the tray. “Helping NCIS?”

“Ducky asked me to look over a couple of profiles, he’s got his hands full with Gibbs. Double homicide and child abductions.” You side eye Todd who’s staring at the two of you, trying desperately hard not to have her mouth agape. “Do you want me to come back later, or shall I leave you stranded and in desperate need for transport?” 

He seems to think about the answer then says, “Leave me stranded once it’s eight o’clock. I can claim overtime.” Then he acknowledges Todd by way of goodbye, then he’s heading back down the hallway. 

You smile at Todd, grabbing your photocopies and original documents then say “They really don’t care if you print everyone’s files instead of photocopying them.”

The office is a mess. Not because of your lack to keep everything in one place (although, that is possible), but just because the case you’re looking at for Ducky keeps getting messier and messier to the point you think you might just call Spence and have him explain it to you.

Then something clicks and you’ve got a whole profile written up and you’re emailing it right back to the agent who requested it. You open an email from Prentiss marked ‘urgent’ thinking maybe you’d missed a case, and check your phone while the email is loading, but there’s nothing.

Emily Prentiss  
Subject: ! Urgent  
Stop scaring Todd, we like her!

You press reply and write ‘Blame Hotch Not Me’. 

Emily Prentiss  
Subject: ! Urgent  
We miss you in the bullpen.

You’re about to respond when a phone call comes through your office. You let it ring three times before picking it up. 

“Agent Y/L/N,” you greet.

“It’s Doctor Dad,” comes your dad’s response. 

Immediately your heart drops and you’re looking for your bag in case you have to leave. “Is everything okay? Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone’s fine, sorry for worrying you, but I think--think--you might have a case.”

“Dad,” you say warningly, leaning back in your chair. “I don’t give us cases, I just work whatever gets handed to me.”

“That’s just it,” he says and then your door is opening to reveal your dad, holding a file. “It’s getting handed to you.” 

***

The case is where you and Aaron never wished to have a case.

It’s a small, but popular, lake you used to frequent before everything fell to complete shit. In the early nineties the four of you had spent a weekend at the lake… the last time you went, you never returned. Kayla, one of the women there, lost her little girl, April, that weekend. April would be as old as Saskia is now, and it’s like someone’s chiselling away at your heart and accidentally chipping it every time you think about it.

One minute she’d been there, the next she was gone. There wasn’t one inch of that lake that went unsearched, there were cops there for weeks. Kayla even brought a house nearby so she could keep looking. 

And now they’ve found her.

As well as seven other kids.

Not half a mile from where the search perimeter ended.

You’d thrown up after the briefing. 

Cases don’t usually get to you that badly, but the idea that you’d been so close the whole time and then you’d just left. You think you might throw up again as you get out of the car and steady yourself against the car door, trying to pull your hair away from your skin to calm down. Aaron doesn’t look much better, his skin ashen. 

“You okay?” he asks as he comes up beside you. Your eyes fall on Kayla, who’s pacing in front of the police tape with an officer looking wearily at her. 

“No,” you say simply as the second car pulls up. “What’s she going to think of me? My whole life continued while she stayed here, hoping to find April.”

“Us,” Aaron corrects. “We both continued our lives. There’s no fault in that.”

“There’s every fault in that.” you say quietly. “I’d never forgive me.”

“But we’re here, and we’re going to solve this and finally give Kayla some peace of mind.”

You take a deep breath and nod. “Okay,” you say softly. “Are you okay?”

He nods to the team as they unload from the cars and head towards the dump site. 

“No,” he says. “I’m not okay. She stayed here, looking for April, and I continued my life,” he repeats after you. 

You bite your thumb and nod, then wipe your thumb on your pants then head towards Kayla. She notices you, and you think she might be furious with you. The way her face contorts, and she looks almost red with rage, but then she’s practically running towards you and throws her arms around your neck. 

At first she’s unnervingly silent. 

Then it’s like the world finally returns to her. Her knees buckle and it’s taking all your effort to hold her up, and she starts wailing so loud it might as well be a siren to evacuate the lake. You can’t do anything more than rub circles over her back and keep her upright while she falls apart in your arms.

It feels like hours before Prentiss rubs your arm and squeezes your elbow. “Cabin four is set up,” she says softly into your ear. “Ma’am, can I make you some tea?” Prentiss asks, taking Kayla from you but she’s got a death grip on your arm and she’s not about to let go.

In the cabin Kayla still doesn’t let go of you, even when Prentiss hands her the tea. 

Aaron hovers by the door until you smile weakly at him and he enters.

“Kayla,” he says. “I’m sorry to have to do this, but we have to ask you some questions about the day April was taken.”

She tightens her grip on your arm so hard and you think she might snap your bone.

“Kayla, we only need to ask you so we can find out who did this, you might remember something,” you say softly, prying her fingers from your arm. 

“Remember something? I’ve told the police everything I know, everything I remember, for the last seventeen years. In four days April would have turned twenty-seven. She had the whole world before her, and you want me to repeat events from all those years ago?”

“Yes,” you say before realising how harsh it sounds. “Now we know what clues we’re looking for, and it’ll help, I promise.”

“It’s not going to bring April back,” Kayla says matter-of-factly and she stands, storming to the otherside of the room. You look to Aaron, who’s nervously picking at his fingers with his thumb. 

“It will bring you closure,” Aaron says simply. “I know you want that.”

Kayla nods and sniffs, then seems to calm herself and rejoins you on the couch. 

“Let’s start from the beginning.”

***

The crime scene was unearthed by a bunch of Girl Scouts on their yearly camping trip. One of the kids had found the top of a barrel and thought it was buried treasure, calling her friends to help her dig it up. Nothing wrong with a bit of healthy curiosity in a child but you really wish these ones weren’t as curious as they were.

Your dad’s able to place the bodies all the way back to the 80’s, and as recently as three years ago. He wants to tell you all about the signatures, but the kids are all so young and you can’t stomach looking at them for prolonged amounts of time so you leave him talking with Spencer. You circle the dump site a couple of times, then lift the tape and head up a hiking trail that the local police have cleared.

Aaron finds you at the top, sitting on a log and looking down on the dumpsite. There’s a perfect view of it, and the lake, which looks almost serene if you didn’t know what was below you. Aaron brushes off the log you’re sitting on and joins you.

“Kayla didn’t say anything helpful,” he says. “She’s talking to Morgan and Prentiss right now.”

“April was here, the entire time, and we were right there, and we missed her.”

“I know,” Aaron says softly. “We’re going to find who did it, though.”

“The last one is three years ago, if they’ve stopped killing we’re not going to find them. Not until they take another.” 

Aaron nods and takes your hand, pulling it into his lap. “We’ll do it before he takes another. We’ve got parents and siblings of the kid’s coming in, we’ll find a common denominator.”

“April was Saskia’s age,” you say quietly. “I can’t imagine what that’s like for Kayla.”

“Don’t,” Aaron responds, squeezing your hand. “Putting yourself in Kayla’s shoes won’t help us find this guy. Saskia’s fine, she’s safe, she’s with Haley. You’re going to have years and years with Saskia, she’s not April.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, Aar,” you say softly. 

Aaron presses a kiss to your temple. “Yes it does.”

You glare at him but you smile just a little. “Yes it does,” you confirm. 

“Do you want to step down for this one? Stay with Kayla, off the field?” 

You look at Aaron like he’s trying to draw you into a trap, but he’s deadly serious. “Yeah. I would appreciate that.”

“Okay,” he says softly and rubs your back. “I’ll make sure no one calls you out. Ready?”

You nod slowly, then he’s standing and tugging you to your feet. 

“April isn’t your fault,” Aaron says.

“I know,” you respond as he pulls you in for a brief hug. “Todd says you don’t show emotion,” you tease, poking his stomach as you pull away.

“I don’t,” Aaron says like you’ve offended him and scores his face into a flat void of emotion.

“I love you,” you say sweetly and Aaron’s lips twitch ever so little. 

“There you are,” he whispers. “Let’s go catch this guy. Bring Kayla some peace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~writing this made me really, really realise how long it's been since Haley/Aaron/Momma hung out properly before she joined the BAU and how SAD that is~


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got some ANGST for PLOT.   
> I apologise in advance, but it will all be worth it.

Spence comes and visits you with coffee he's picked up in town as families begin to arrive. Kayla's stopped pacing but now she's almost rocking in the corner and snarling like a wounded animal if anyone gets close to her. 

"It's mad out there," Spencer says and you think he might be copying whatever Morgan's said outside. He gives you the coffee then approaches Kayla slowly and places the coffee at arms length. 

"Thanks for the coffee," you say and Spence nods.

"I know Hotch said you're in here, but Prentiss was wondering if you wanted to talk to some people?" He shuffles on his feet, not meeting your eye. 

You shake your head softly and Spencer nods. Kayla gasps, head snapping up.

"Coffee," she says simply and then she's on her feet. "I remember something. The coffee guy." 

"Kayla?" 

But she's out the door and you're grabbing your gun and following her, Spencer hot on your heels. Spencer tells the right people the right things and you're both following Kayla on her war path. She grabs one of the clipboards Todd was using to keep track of who’s family members were who and flips the paper, manically scribbling everything down like she’ll forget it in a heartbeat.

Hotch joins the three of you, eyebrow raised in a sort of curiosity, but mainly as a silent ‘tell me what’s happening’. 

“Y-you said if there was anyone acting weird, who said things at weird times, paid too much attention to me, or to April, or…” Kayla slams the clipboard down on the fold out table. “The coffee guy.”

“Coffee guy?” Aaron says, and looks to you like you’d know but you’re shaking your head.

“He had this shitty caravan, people bought coffee from it, damn good coffee too.”

The two of you are still shaking your heads and Spencer lifts his coffee cup to eye height.

“I got this in town from a shop,” he says like Kayla’s accusing him of something. You frown at him and lower his arm.

“Your friend didn’t like him.” Kayla points at you. “She said he was weird.”

“Haley?” You offer. “She thought he was weird?” 

"Yeah, yeah, Haley. She wouldn't let me go by myself. He always talked about… uh… his little girl. Said she was the same age as April, always used to dote on her."

By now Morgan's joined, watching Kayla closely. 

“Surely you remember him,” Kayla says, eyes flicking between you and Aaron, and you’re both shaking your heads. ‘Blue caravan? Wall cut out?”

“Wait, straw hat?” you ask. “He’d sit and watch everyone?”

“Yeah,” Kayla says, snapping her fingers. “That’s the one.”

“Can you sit with a sketch artist?” Aaron asks and Kayla nods.

***

“Your dad thinks the barrels were buried before the bodies were put in them,” Spence says as he paces in front of you. “Then they were moved, there’s two different types of soil on them that don’t exist together.”

“So where are the two types?” you ask between sips of coffee. 

“I’m looking into it, but I think there’s a space over the ridge that might help, we’ve got officers collecting samples to see if it matches.” 

“Why bury them then dig them up and move them? That seems like a lot of work,” you say. 

“I don’t know,” he says like it troubles him. “It does seem odd, doesn’t it? Maybe he has them as a count down, or a limit on how many he can kill. But not all the kids disappeared from here, they’re from all over the place and they just ended up here. The kill site’s here too...”

You nod along with him as Spence starts a long winded explanation as to why that’s weird. You don’t really need an explanation but it’s nice to hear someone talk about something other than April. 

Morgan’s nervous when he comes in, he’s practically dripping with nerves. You cock your head at him and he scores himself into the usual Morgan face.

“Profile says at this time of the year he’ll have a place nearby, we’re going out to see if we can locate it. Garcia says it’s possible that he’s got another kid.”

And that’s why Morgan’s so nervous. Because you have no doubt Hotch told the whole team that you’re doing less field stuff. 

“Is Kayla with someone?” you ask. Morgan nods. “Then let’s go.”

***

There’s a steep incline that has a strange track down it that looks like someone struggled down it. You’ve called your position in to Morgan, but he’s at least six minutes away by foot, and there’s something in your gut that tells you something’s wrong. So you’re digging an arrow into the soil, snapping some branches, and following the track.

It’s way steeper than you’d thought, and it’s more of you slipping down the mud ridden track than walking down it. You hit a tree root at the bottom of the slope, sending you careening into the mud that does nothing to stop your falling.

It’s a tree that finally stops you, if you’d been going any faster you swear your back would have wrapped completely around the trunk. It takes a moment for your breath to return to your lungs, wheezing slightly as you raise yourself to your hands and knees. So maybe you should have waited for Morgan. And you’re thinking about just that when you come face to face with two big, innocent, scare brown eyes.

“Hey,” you say as softly as you can, but your voice rasps and you’re taken over by a coughing fit. When it stops, the eyes are still there. You push the leaves out the way to come face to face with a little blonde girl, chunky plaits over her ears.

“I’m y/n,” you say. “I’m with the FBI. What’s your name?”

She doesn’t look like she trusts you, but then her eyes fall on your vest and she mouths ‘FBI’ silently to herself.

“I’m Chloe.”

“Hi Chloe, how’d you get out here?”

She shuffles out from her hiding spot and wraps her arms around you. Not really a hug, more a grip like she’s scared you’ll disappear. 

“Chloe, I’m just going to call my friend,” you say, reaching for your comm. “He’s going to try and find your parents. And come find us.” Chloe nods, giving you permission. “Morgan, same location. I have Chloe here with me, how old are you Chloe?”

“I’m ten,” she says, holding up ten fingers.

“That’s a good age,” you smile, letting go of your comm. “My daughter’s that age.”

Chloe’s smile is gone as soon as it arrives, and she’s grabbing your wrist dragging you into the trees. 

“He’s coming,” she whispers urgently and you’re surprised at how fast she’s moving for such a little girl. 

“Who’s coming, Chloe?” you ask, and she responds by pressing her finger to her lips. 

She tugs you into the bushes, flattens you to the ground, just in time as massive combat boots trudge over the path you were just walking. He pauses, cocking his gun, and you pull Chloe into you to muffle her whimpers. You even find yourself with your hand pressed against your mouth so he won’t hear you.

He leaves after the longest minute of your life. Your comms are nothing but static, which is more than upsetting. 

“Your vest is scratchy,” Chloe says as you let go of her.

You wipe down her cheek where your vest has imprinted itself. “I’m sorry, Chloe. My friend’s are just up there,” you say, pointing up the ridge. Some leaves come free and you’re showered with them, telling you the ridge is far too steep for both of you to climb. 

Chloe, maybe, sure. She’s tiny and she looks like she could climb. Which means you’d have to find a way back, which is fine, you’ve got your gu--

Gun.

You haven’t got your gun. Your holster is empty, the clip snapped clean off the top. It must have come off when you fell, your gun slipping free as you’d been talking to Chloe. Shit. 

“Do you know your way out?” you whisper, tucking her plaits behind her ear. You smile a little when they bounce back in front immediately. 

“Yeah,” she says pointing back the way you just came. 

You nod, and you can hear the unsub coming back, slashing at the bushes. Then you do the dumbest thing you think you’ve ever done, and you’re definitely going to lose your job for it, because you’re pulling off your vest and putting it over Chloe’s shoulders.

“If I’m not behind you, you keep going until you see the people wearing this vest, okay? Don’t look back.”

“Okay,” Chloe says. 

“If you feel like something’s hit you, keep going, okay? This’ll just give you some really nasty bruises,” you whisper, adjusting the vest on her which looks like a weirdly shaped dress.

She nods again. “If anything happens I have to keep going, don’t stop for anything. Don’t look back. Don’t stop until I see this vest on someone else.”

You smile proudly at her. “Okay, let’s go.”

She grips onto your arm like a lifeline as you both fight through the bushes. Chloe struggles to keep up, and the unsub keeps getting closer, so you haul her into your arms and pick up the pace. You’re near the tree that you’d dropped your gun at when it happens.

First, it’s that the bush whacking behind you stops. 

Next, it’s that you have an overwhelming calling to let go of Chloe, which you do, and she’s a champ because she doesn’t look back she just runs.

And last, the unsub has you by the hair, tugging you back to him so hard something cracks, and then everything goes dark.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST, PAIN, HEART BREAK, IT'S ALL HERE THNX

“Oh, this is cute,” a woman says.

She’s sitting across from you in a diner you vaguely remember from your childhood. The woman’s barely older than you, her arm thrown over the back of the seat. She’s wearing red butterfly earrings that look tacky, but she makes it work. 

“Mom?” you say weakly. 

She looks up, smiling one of her award winning smiles, and flips the object in her hand. It’s a photograph of Saskia, although the photograph has to be a memory because you never… You’ve never taken a photo like that.

“She’s a really sweet kid, what did you name her?”

“Saskia,” you breathe, barely believing that she’s before you.

“Valley of Light, Protector of Mankind. Perfect name for a perfect little girl. Wish I could have met her.”

“Me too.”

“And who’s this?” She taps the photograph and it changes to Aaron. You can’t even question it.

“Aaron,” you smile.

“Enlightened, bearer of martyrs, high mountain. Does this sound right?”

“Very,” you say.

“Is he Saskia’s Dad?’

“As good as,” you nod and your mom smiles. 

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“No.”

“You’re inside one of those barrels,” she says plainly as a pie materialises in front of her. She picks at the pastry then loads it up with whipped cream. “The creepy guy, looking for the kid, he can’t hurt you anymore. Mr. Mountain" (you guess she's talking about Aaron) "shot him in the shoulder.” She picks up the photograph of Aaron then tosses it behind her shoulder. “Good shot, too, I’m proud of him. The girl is okay, too.”

“So why am I here?” you ask, shaking your head as she offers you some pie.

“Oh, you’re not alive. You’re not dead, either. Oxygen’s running out, your body’s trying to preserve what you’ve got, and you’ve ended up here. Somewhere between the two.” She splays her hands then shoves too much pie in her mouth. “It was fucking lonely the first two times I came here, glad I could make you comfortable.”

“Mom,” you whine at her language, surprised at yourself for sounding so young.

“What? It’s true. Do you know how you’re going to get back?”

“No, I’m not exactly a frequent flyer at this place.”

“Find your tether. To the world, to what’s left,” she says like it makes total sense. “Do you know what your tether is?”

“No?”

“Do you know anything about yourself? I thought I’d taught you better.”

“Gee, thanks Mom.” A sharp, shooting, pain races through your chest and you press a hand to it, the applied pressure making it hurt less.

“That,” she says, pointing to your chest. “That’s good.”

You frown, the pain happening again. “No, it’s not good, it hurts.”

“Hurting means you’re alive. Now you have to find your tether.”

“Mom, I don’t know what that is.”

“Something you can manifest, this world and that. Mine were these earrings.” She smiles proudly and shakes her head, the butterflies jingling. “You bought them for me. Whenever I wore them, I felt like I was close to you. No matter how bad things got, these butterflies would let me come back.”

“You didn’t come back the last time.”

“Sometimes, just sometimes, we don’t get a choice, Pumpkin. But look at you, there’s a choice for you, and you need to take it. You’re not leaving your little naturistic painting to fend on their own are you?”

“Naturistic painti--” you’re stopped short by the pain again. “What IS that?”

“High Mountain, Valley of Light, could be a Bob Ross painting.” She discards the pie and sits beside you, taking your face softly in her hands. “Listen.”

She runs her thumbs lightly over your eyes, drawing them closed. Immediately you’re met with a flood of voices from all over the place. Calling for paramedics, asking what’s going on, if you’re breathing. Then, clear as day, like he’s sitting right beside you--

“Please,” said as desperately and emotionally as you could ever wish from Aaron. “Work. Come on, come back.”

“He’s trying to bring you back,” your mom whispers as your eyes flicker open. “And I don’t think he’s ever going to stop. Very sweet.”

“What if I don’t want to go back?” you ask, even though you know it’s not true. “What if I want to stay with you?”

She cups your face, kissing your nose. “My advice to you, is you stay with your little girl. You want to see her grow up, see her live her life. What’s she going to be like at your age, huh? Don’t ever leave her. And let me tell you a secret.” She leans into your ear, “never, ever, leave a man who fights that hard to bring you back.”

“So how do I find my tether, Mom?” you ask weakly. 

“The same way he found you,” she smiles, taking your left hand and raising it to her lips. When she pulls it away from her kiss, your engagement ring is in its place. “That man has over two hundred barrels buried in the field he took you to. He got your necklace caught trying to get you in, and it fell off. Narrowed it down to three barrels to choose from. Aaron found you because the sun was just right, and the angle was good, and that little emerald glistened like a beacon.”

“She’s hardly little,” you splutter, trying desperately hard not to cry at the thought of Aaron pulling your limp body out of one of those barrels. 

“Pumpkin, Aaron Hotchner dug through two feet of soil with his bare hands, and is currently trying to restart your heart, that emerald is tiny in comparison to his love and devotion.”

“How do I get back?”

“Hold on tight, close your eyes, and think of home.”

“Isn’t that Wizard of Oz?” you laugh through your tears as they spill down your cheeks. She used to read the novel to you every time you went to Hawaii.

“It works, I promise.” And she kisses both your cheeks, closing your eyes for you. “I love you,” she says, drawing you into her arms.

“I love you too,” you cry into her, gripping onto her as tight as you can until she’s gone.

Gone, and replaced with Aaron begging with you and the god’s and anything else that might be listening to bring you back. But you can’t say anything, it’s like you’re trapped, but you’re there and that’s all that matters.

***

Aaron’s been sitting in the same seat, the same position, still covered in dirt and muck, for hours. You’re still in surgery and there’s no news, so it’s just… waiting. Painfully waiting.

He blames himself. For not sending you home, not giving you an option to turn the case down, for telling Morgan it was okay to ask if you wanted to help out after he said you could step down for the case, for not going with you because he had other things to do.

It’s a spiral he’s all too willing to let himself go down.

A spiral that’s rudely interrupted by the sound of Garcia’s heels clicking fast down the hallway, although he doesn’t have the energy to lift his head or tear his eyes away from his watch that he’s been counting the minutes on. (135 minutes, 24-no-32 seconds).

“Sir?” she asks and Hotch’s response is just to heave a breath and not change anything else. “Any news?” He doesn’t shake his head. He just heaves a breath again. “Okay.”

She takes a seat next to him, clasping her hands in front of her, and says nothing else even though Hotch knows it’s hurting her not to. 

“Saskia’s on her way,” Garcia says at last like she’s about to burst. “I know you didn’t ask but she’s a smart kid, and she picked up on it when I made that phone call,and…”

“Garcia,” Hotch breathes. “It’s fine.”

“Do you want something to eat?”

“No.”

“O-okay. Do you want to talk?”

“No.”

“I’ll be downstairs with the team, call if you need anything.” She stands, hesitating, only to be stopped by Aaron’s (new) heave of breath and he shakes his head.

“Stay, talk to me.”

“Sir?”

“Tell me something, anything.”

“I-I don’t have anything to tell you, Hotch,” she says as she sits back down. “But I can be here, sure.”

And maybe there’s a ghost of a smile across his face, but it’s gone just as quick as it arrived.

146 minutes, 52 seconds.

“Aaron?” Haley says before she’s even half way down the hallway. “What’s going on?”

He's looking up to explain to Haley when Saskia's breaking free of Haley's hand and running down the corridor full pelt. Aaron drops from his chair to his knees, catching Saskia in his arms. 

"Are you okay?" Saskia asks and Aaron only squeezes her in response. She seems content. 

As content as Saskia, the most self aware kid Aaron knows, can be. She grips onto him like life support, and it's not until Garcia entices her away with fluffy headbands that Aaron gets to stand and address Haley.

"How long has she been in surgery?" Haley asks. 

"161 minutes," Aaron says with no hesitation. Haley nods and her chin quivers. 

"Is that long? For what she was like?" 

Aaron shrugs. He doesn't want to think about it. Garcia makes her excuses not to be there, saying she'll tale Saskia to the team and Hotch can only nod. 

"Can I sit with you?" Haley asks. Aaron nods.

222 minutes, 59 seconds.

"Sir?" A doctor comes almost toe to toe with Aaron, drawing him from his fitful nap on Haley's shoulder. "Your wife pulled through. She'll wake in the next couple of hours, we'll be sure to call you in when she does." 

"I'm not leaving," Aaron says simply. 

"There were some complications, Sir, and I'm afraid to say with all the damage to her torso and internal bleeding, we were unable to save the baby." 

"She wasn't pregnant," Haley says.

"Two, three months," the doctor says. "Easy enough to miss in her line of work if she's been under a lot of stress. I'm so sorry." 

Aaron feels like he might pass out or cry or throw up or scream, or all of the above, as he collapses in his chair and drops his head into his hands. 

He barely hears Haley thanking the doctor before he lets himself cry, the tears spilling over his hands. Haley doesn't try to make him talk, she just puts her arm around him and lets him cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This angst will all be important later


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~she's long for today but i needed it after the stunt i pulled yesterday~

Everything hurts.

Every, single, thing. 

Even the effort of opening your eyes is just that, an effort.

But totally worth it when you see Aaron, curled up on the shitty hospital chair, body turned to you as he sleeps fitfully. You can’t help the small, soft, sad smile that creeps over your face. 

“He hasn’t left,” Haley says softly and you jump, having not noticed her standing in the corner of your hospital room. “He washed the dirt off, put on a jumper, that’s it. I made him eat.”

“How much?” you croak, like you and Haley are analysing a child. 

“A couple of fries. He didn’t want anything else. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling ‘ow’,” you respond weakly, clearing your throat. 

“You scared a lot of people today.”

“Write me up.”

“Y/n,” Haley says warningly and you groan, falling back into the pillows. “Saskia’s with your dad downstairs, and the team.” She looks at Aaron after this, you’re sure there’s a bit of resentment there, but it drops as quickly as it appears.

“Do you need a hug, Hales?” you respond, turning your head weakly to her. She purses her lips like she’s going to say yes, but shakes her head and breathes heavily. “Yes you do.”

“You just had major surgery,” Haley whispers, her voice cracking a little.

“Come hug my arm then,” you say softly, extending an arm full of needles and wires and tubes and Haley glares at you.

“I’ll kiss your forehead, that’s all,” Haley says like it’s an ultimatum and you smile.

“It’s free real estate.”

Haley looks you over sadly, and there’s something more in that look. It’s like she’s afraid to break you, but there’s something more in that look that worries you as she kisses your forehead. You wiggle your appendages, just to make sure they’re all there. That’s not it.

“Hales?” you ask. “Everything okay?”

She wipes her thumb over your forehead to wipe her lipstick off, then wipes her cheeks. “I’ll let you talk to Aaron. Have him text me when I should bring Saskia up.” She walks around the bed, shaking Aaron softly, then she’s leaving with a hesitant look back.

“Hey Stranger,” you say as you turn to Aaron, hissing when your body moves too far and pain shoots up your spine for a quick moment before it’s gone. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” he barely whispers, leaning over to you and taking your hand. You squeeze it as hard as you can, which is admittedly not very hard at all. 

“They’ve got to try a lot harder than that to take me from you.” You’re hoping he’ll smile but he doesn’t. He just shakes a little, his eyebrows creasing. “Aar? What’s wrong?”

“Y-you, um,” his voice waivers and he sucks in his cheeks. “Physically, you’re fine, kind of. I mean, you’re going to be fine, once you’re all healed.” He turns on his boss face, stone, clinical, and you know something’s wrong. Really wrong. “They couldn’t save the baby.”

“I wasn’t--” but the look on his face, God, you know your train of thought is wrong. “I was?” He nods and it’s like the world’s torn away from you. 

There’s nothing, no feelings, then it hits you all at once and you’re trying not to sob because it hurts, but you do. Aaron strokes your face lightly, thumb hesitating over the nicks and cuts that are held together by tape.

“I’m so sorry,” Aaron murmurs. When you finally turn to him, his cheeks are wet and he’s trying so hard to be strong. You cup the back of his head, pulling him into your shoulder. He hesitates for a moment, then his face falls heavily into your shoulder and his shoulders shake. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper into his hair because anything above a whisper feels like it’s going to break you. 

You give a soft smile to a Nurse who hovers at the entrance, who gives you a sympathetic smile back and nods before returning to the nurse’s station. When Aaron’s breathing evens out you stroke his hair, sniffing as he looks up at you and wipes at his cheeks to get rid of the tears. 

“I love you,” you whisper and Aaron looks like he might break again as he pushes your hair off your forehead.

“I love you too,” he whispers, eyes flicking over you like he doesn’t quite believe you’re there. 

“Haley said I scared a lot of people,” you say like it’s nothing. 

“Everyone,” Aaron snorts and you catch the ghost of a smile over his face when you pretend to be shocked. “You don’t remember what happened?” 

“Chloe, Unsub, nothing,” you say, counting them off on your fingers. “Chloe, is she okay?”

“Yeah, Morgan’s with her, her parents are coming in from Massachusetts. She has no family in the area.”

“That’s a long way to take a little girl.”

“Yeah.”

“A very brave little girl. She took orders a little too well, though, I mean Saskia would do exactly what I tell her to do, but Chloe did it without question. I’m a stranger.”

“A stranger in an FBI vest,” Aaron counters.

“Kids don’t know what that is,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. Aaron chuckles, fidgeting with your bed sheets.

“According to her parents, her Uncle is a Navy SEAL and his wife worked at the New York FBI field office before she became a stay at home mom. Chloe stays with them sometimes on school holidays.”

“A brave, smart, talented little girl with a great family. She’s very lucky. She’ll need therapy, though.”

Aaron nods. “She’s got bruised ribs, one of them’s broken, and probably a nasty scar on her neck where a bullet grazed her, but she didn’t stop running. One of the shots knocked her clean off her feet, but Morgan caught her. Your vest--which you shouldn’t have taken off,” Aaron interjects, “saved her life. She’s a little malnourished, but she’s eating and let the nurses put an IV in.” He strokes your face.

“Do I get a pass because my vest saved Chloe?”

Aaron glares at you, but he still nods. “Evidence of what happened to the kids, what Chloe said he was going to do, what he did to you, the Director personally waived it.” 

“What he did to me?” 

“You really don’t remember,” he seems to be in shock that you don’t remember, and then his face kind of contorts into relief. “You’re going to have some pretty big scars, but you’re okay. He stabbed you eight times. Bandaged you back together pretty crudely. Beat you up, too.” His voice quivers and you pat his cheek.

“I’m okay,” you confirm his earlier statement. “Bet my ribs are going to hurt too,” you tease. “I came back.”

“Yes you did.” He kisses your forehead, lingering, then pulls back. “Do you want to see the team?”

“Saskia and Dad first,” you smile. “Don’t want to scare her.”

Aaron nods, flicking a text to Haley. You try to sit up, wincing, and Aaron’s there almost immediately, with his hand pressed flat against your back as he reorganises the pillow, watching you carefully for any signs of discomfort.

“Aar, I’m fine,” you say quietly, but he’s shaking his head at you and frowning slightly. You grab his jaw lightly, guiding his face to look at yours. “Aar, stop worrying. I’m sore, but I’m fine. You said so yourself. Now kiss me, and calm down just a smidge.” You add a smile at the end that makes Aaron smirk and he kisses you lightly. “Good man.”

Almost immediately there’s a soft knocking at the door and Haley’s got a soft smile on her face and her arm behind her back, your daughter’s legs behind hers.

“Hey little miss sweetface,” you say no louder than a whisper and she pokes her head out from behind Haley. “I look a little messed up, but I’m okay.”

She hesitates to let go of Haley’s hand, but Aaron’s holding out his and Saskia switches hands like a relay baton. You sooth the blanket down beside you, patting it to invite Saskia to sit, but also to tell Aaron there’s nothing there that’ll hurt you. He helps Saskia up, because she’s still a little scared. She looks at you like you’re a different person and you blink back the threatening tears.

“What’s that?” she asks, finger pointing to one of your needles poking out of your hand, tracing the tube to one of the bags hanging by your bed.

“Something to make me better,” you say softly. 

“Okay,” she says. “Do you feel better?”

“Not yet, but I will,” you promise. 

Saskia nods slowly. “Am I allowed to hug you?” she asks. Haley makes a tiny little ‘naw’ noise and Aaron rubs her back. 

“Always Saskia,” you smile and she shuffles forward on the bed, watching everything that’s poking out of you, and puts her arms lightly around your shoulders. 

It’s barely a hug, not until you squeeze her, and then she’s shuffling in a little closer, ear pressed to your shoulder. She keeps her face away from you, no doubt looking over your room as she tries to take it all in. 

“This room is really boring,” Saskia says at last. “Penelope says ‘bland’.”

“It’s a hospital room, they can’t all be exciting.” 

“They should be,” she says matter of factly. “They should have butterflies and dolphins and stars and rainbows.”

“It should, you’re right,” you smile as she pulls back from the hug. Your dad’s standing with Haley, an arm around her shoulder, smiling at you. “Can everyone stop throwing sympathetic looks at me? I’m okay.” 

“Mom, okay people don’t get hospital trips,” Saskia says plainly. “Or bags of that.” She points at the drip and you place your hand on top of hers, lowering it, then boop her nose. She giggles, her face lighting up and she finally breaks out of that nervous look. 

Practically the whole room heaves a sigh of relief. Aaron drops into the chair, his hovering arms lowering into his lap. 

“Sweetie, you’re going to have to stay at Auntie Haley’s for a little bit, okay?” you say, putting your hands in her laps to stop her from bouncing.

“Actually,” Haley says, “she’s staying at Penelope Garcia’s tonight.”

Saskia nods enthusiastically. “Grandad said it was okay.” 

“If Penelope’s okay with it,” you say and there’s an echo of ‘she does’ from Haley and your dad which makes you chuckle before wincing. Aaron pulls Saskia’s attention away from you immediately, and you’re grateful as you lean back, breathing through it. 

“Let’s go help Garcia with those flowers then, Chickadee,” your dad says, holding an arm out to her. She nods excitedly and says she’ll be right back, jumping off the bed despite Aaron’s little ‘carefuls’ that are littered all over the place.

When Saskia’s finally out of earshot Aaron shares a look with Haley, then lets his eyes fall back to you.

“Are you sure you’re okay seeing the team?” he asks, eyes flicking to the monitor.

“Yeah,” you breathe, but the painkillers waring off is beginning to become very, very, obvious. “Not too long, though.”

“Understood,” Aaron says. 

Haley nods. “I have to pick Jack up from Jess’s, but I’ll be back tomorrow.” She comes over, patting your hand. “Look after her, Aaron.”

“Always,” he says with a tough smile. 

Haley leaves, waving softly to you. You grit your teeth and groan, leaning back into the pillows.

“Babe, they can come back tomorrow,” Aaron whispers, cupping your cheek. “They’re all adults, they’ll get it.”

“Do you have my ring?” you ask. He frowns and nods, grabbing at a patient bag and going through your stuff.

“The, uh, the chain’s broken, I’ll get you a new one,” he says as he hands it to you.

“I want to wear it. No chain.”

Aaron looks like he’s melted as you slip it on, wiggling your fingers so he can see. Now he smiles, genuinely, and you take his hand, tugging him to the edge of your bed until he sits where Saskia had been. 

“Don’t tire yourself out,” he says, eyes looking you over. 

“I’m okay,” you repeat but now Aaron’s watching you face on and he’s not going let you lie to him. 

“No you’re not. After this, you’re taking no more visitors, and you’re going to rest.”

“Rest? What’s that?” you say sarcastically, but Aaron doesn’t crack a smile.

“It’s what’s going to make you better,” he says quietly and vulnerably, and you can’t help but transfer his whole tone into the way you’re looking at him and you nod.

“Okay.”

The team aren’t quiet as they come down the hall, Saskia at the head. Aaron doesn’t move until Saskia’s in your room, and you’re gasping softly in surprise which hurts far more than it should.

“Are those sunflowers?” you ask Saskia, who’s nodding excitedly.

“And Penny got roses and tulips too.” 

Aaron takes the sunflowers from Saskia, putting them on the shelf in the corner, then tries to put the rest of the flowers around them. 

“How are you feeling?” Prentiss asks and you eye off Saskia who’s pretending to pay attention to Aaron but you know she’s really listening. She’s got that look in the way she’s standing.

“I’m okay,” you smile but she doesn’t believe you.

The team all jam into the room like sardines. Prentiss, Garcia, Saskia, Aaron, Dave, Spence, even JJ, and you can feel the nurses squirming. Prentiss tells you that Morgan’s still with Chloe and he’ll come by later. 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask JJ. “You should be on leave, Young Lady.”

“I was worried,” she says defensively yet playfully. “Everyone called, I had to make sure you were really okay.”

“I’m fine, go home to your boys.”

Spence looks like he’s about to rattle off facts about the statistics of you really being fine, so you smile at him and he nods and rocks on his feet.

“We’ll be out of your hair soon,” Dave says. “We just wanted to see you were really okay. Face to face.”

“A-and I wanted to give you this,” Spencer says, handing you a book of sudoku puzzles. “Keeps you from getting bored.”

“Thanks Spence.” 

Saskia tugs on Aaron’s wrist and whispers something to him, climbing back onto your bed. She sits carefully on your bed, like a meerkat on watch, then she slowly relaxes and eases herself into nuzzling against you. Aaron’s eyes widen as you wince, but you wrap your arm around Saskia and shift her so she’s not against anything that hurts but she’s still close.

You kiss her forehead when she rests her head on your shoulder, wishing there was more to do to comfort her. Garcia’s given her one of her scarves that’s big enough to be a blanket, and you note how soft it is as you stroke it, unable to stop.

“Before you all go,” you say, catching Aaron’s eye who nods encouragingly. “Hotch and I, we’re um…” you’re about to finish but Saskia’s snickering ‘Hotch’ against you like you’ve had your own comedy special, so you just lift your left hand to show off your engagement ring. 

There’s a chorus of gasps and ‘congratulations’, Emily leaning in to look at it and whistles low and impressed. 

“Hotch, that’s beautiful,” Emily says, clearly impressed. She calls Garcia and JJ over, who also both assess it until you’re pulling the ring off to hand it to them because honestly it’s exhausting to hold your arm up for so long.

“How did you find this?” Garcia says, turning it over in her hand. “This is gorgeous.”

“I had help,” he says and Saskia raises her hand. 

“I’m help,” she says proudly. 

“Yes you are,” you whisper, resting your head on hers. 

“You’re some of the best help I’ve ever seen,” Prentiss says, ruffling Saskia’s hair. “Remind me to hire you when I find the right one.” 

“Me too,” JJ adds.

“Traditionally emerald engagement rings signify luck, peace, and a long marriage,” Spencer says. “But some people see it as bad luck and the wedding is unlikely to happen.” 

Saskia frowns, lifting her head from your shoulder. “Don’t manifest that, Spencer,” she says forcefully and it’s very obviously an imitation of Garcia. You chuckle, which is far too much, and Saskia pulls back from you, her face paling. 

Aaron steps forward, the team making their excuses to leave. JJ pats your shoulder, Emily nodding to you as she leaves with JJ. Dave nods, tells you your dad will be back tomorrow and that he’ll check on him. Spence apologises for the ring comment, Aaron telling him it’s fine.

“Reid,” Garcia says while Spence starts spiralling. “Saskia and I are going to get burgers and noodles and have a Doctor Who marathon. Would you like to join us? Would that be okay, Saskia?”

“Yeah!” she says excitedly, you momentarily forgotten. “We’re going to start with Christopher Eccelston!”

“Lucky,” you say, rubbing her back. Saskia smiles widely and nods. “Noodles, burgers AND Doctor Who? That sounds like the best night ever.”

“I wish you could come,” Saskia says.

“I know, me too. When I’m all better, yeah?” you offer.

“Dad? You too?” Saskia says, turning to him.

“Sure, me too,” he smiles.

“Saski,” you say lightly, drawing her attention back to you. “Be good for Penelope, yeah? Bed when she tells you to, pj’s when she tells you to, brush your teeth.”

“Like at Auntie Haley’s,” she says, nodding. “And I take breaks if I need to.”

“Good girl. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Mommy,” she says. “Can I hug you?” you nod, pulling her into you, kissing her cheek. “Sleep well,” she says into your shoulder.

“You too,” you respond into her hair. 

She climbs off your bed when she let’s go of you, dropping to the ground. She hugs Aaron, face pressed into his sweatshirt so hard that you wonder how much she’s making up for not being able to squeeze you. 

“Garcia and Reid are going to drop by my place, you can grab your toothbrush and a new set of pj’s,” Aaron says. 

“Can I get my blanket and some toys, too?” 

“Two toys,” you say, holding up your fingers. “Have to fit them all in Penny’s car, and keep an eye on them. You wouldn’t want to lose any.”

Saskia nods. “Two. Got it.”

“Night Saskia,” you say.

“Night Mom,” she smiles back as she takes Garcia’s hand. Aaron hands Garcia his house keys and she promises to return them tomorrow.

Aaron helps you lie down again, even the Nurse that comes in to check your vitals gives you a ‘lucky’ kind of look. You smile back at her before she does her routine, and you let her poke and prod at you while Aaron’s trying desperately hard not to answer the questions she keeps asking you.

“Is he going to stay the night?” she asks when you finally get Aaron to leave and get something to eat.

“Yeah,” you say. “He gave our friend’s the key to his place.”

“I’ll have a cot brought in. Was that your little girl leading the hoard of people?” 

“Yeah,” you say proudly.

“Your brightly coloured friend bought so many flowers. Your daughter gave each of the nurses’s stations a bunch, made sure there was one flower for each of us. She said there were too many otherwise.”

“That’s my daughter,” you smile and grimace through the pain that shoots through your body.

“I’ll see if I can get a doctor to come in, adjust your pain meds.” 

“Thanks.”

***

Morgan drops into your room as the painkillers start to kick in, and you try really hard not to look loopy and tired. 

“Chloe’s safe with her parents,” Morgan says. “She didn’t stop talking about you.”

“I heard you did a pretty good job of being her hero too,” you add.

“But I’m not the prettiest lady superhero ever, ‘even better than Wonderwoman or Black Widow’, Chloe says.” 

“Shame. You’d look nice in a Black Widow outfit.”

“Garcia told me Hotch gave you a pretty rock,” Morgan smiles as he comes further into your room. You pat the edge of your mattress, then raise your hand just a little for Morgan to see. “Vegas,” he says simply. “You’ve had that since Vegas, when’d he propose?”

“Ah, the one question no one asked,” you say and Morgan smirks. “Before Vegas. After the ballet.”

“Pretty boy was right,” Morgan says like he’s disappointed in himself. “I thought it was a birthstone, Saskia’s born in May, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“How strong are your painkillers right now?” Morgan teases.

“So strong. If I look at Reid’s sudoku book for too long the numbers start dancing.”

“Where can I get some?”

“Get stabbed, die for a bit, lose a baby, they’ll hand it straight to you.”

Morgan’s face drops, his hand covering yours lightly as not to disturb any of the medical stuff. “Sorry.”

You gasp when you realise what you’ve said. “The team don’t know.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Thanks, muscle man.”

“Morgan?” Hotch asks, coming in and dropping his bag by the cot.

“Oh my gosh, you are so handsome,” you tease and Aaron shakes his head at you. 

“They upped her painkillers,” Morgan says. “Chloe’s with her parents.”

“Good. Reid, Garcia and Saskia are all at Garcia’s.” 

You reach your hand out for Aaron and he takes it, squeezing your fingers.

“I told him by accident, Aar,” you whisper and Aaron looks to Morgan, then seems to realise what you mean.

“That’s okay,” he says quietly, kissing your fingers.

“If there’s anything you two need, anything at all, call me,” Morgan says, dead serious. “Even if it’s just to bring dinner, or pick up groceries, or take Saskia for ten minutes.”

“Can you get ice-cream?” you ask hopefully.

“The moment your doctor clears it,” Morgan smiles. 

“Thank-you, Morgan,” Aaron says. “You did good work today. Go home, get some rest.”

“Sounds good by me.” Morgan stands, patting the bedsheets in lieu of patting your leg. 

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” you call after him and he laughs. “Nurse brought you in a cot ‘cause she thinks you’re cute.”

He nods, adjusting your sheets. “Are you warm enough?”

“Aar, I can’t feel anything, don’t ask me if I’m warm enough.” 

He smirks, kissing your forehead. “If anything changes, tell me.” He climbs into the cot, using his arms as a pillow, and you know he’s not sleeping because there’s too many noises with all the beeping and whirring and buzzing and nurses going up and down the hallway, but it’s nice to have him there.

It’s past night shift switch, and nighttime rounds, and suddenly the room is incredibly lonely. Even with Aaron there. You call for him softly and he hums, but nothing more than that, like he’s disturbed. You whisper his name again and this time he sits up.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. No. Can you hold my hand? Please?”

His hand flails around the edge of your bed, finding your hand in the fluorescent hospital night time. When he does he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Always.”

“Hey, Aar?” you whisper, and he hums, turning onto his shoulder so you know he’s listening. “I… uh… can Saskia and I just move in with you?”

“You know you can, Baby, we discussed it.”

“I know, but… I mean, we haven’t because I was scared, which is dumb, because we’re literally married. I don’t… I want to move in.”

“Yeah. When you’re all good I’ll help you and Saskia move.”

“Thank-you.”

He presses his lips to your hand and pulls it into his chest. “I love you, and we’ll get through this. I promise.”

“I love you,” you whisper back. “But I really, really, want to go home.”

“Next time don’t take your vest off.”

“Yes sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: mentions todd last chapter  
> me: no todd this chapter  
> me: it's called--proving she doesn't vibe with the fam.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~welcome all yee kudos givers and commenters i love you all, you're all so incredible, just wanted to say that now.~

Garcia brings Saskia over before school, which you’re immensely grateful for. Saskia sits at the end of your bed, flicking through the doctor’s medical charts and asking Spencer about anything she doesn’t know. Garcia hasn’t slept a wink, and by the look of him, neither has Spencer, but Saskia looks like she’s slept all night long.

“Was she okay?” you ask Garcia, who’s bought you rainbow roses that you know are going to die too soon.

“Saskia? Oh yeah. She was perfect, asleep by ten.”

You frown at Garcia, because you know from experience that Saskia IS NOT ‘asleep by ten’ when something--anything--happens. Garcia huffs, knowing she’s been caught, and shrugs.

“She stayed asleep as long as the TV stayed on, and we were both on the couch.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, no, she’s okay. It’s okay. She’s a good kid, we knew what we were signing up for.” Garcia hovers, smiling so wide she has to be over compensating. 

“How were her nightmares?”

There--the look in Garcia’s eye flickers for a moment and you know Saskia had them, and probably really bad. You can’t blame her. 

“Garcia,” you say softly and pat the bed. “Talk to me.”

“How do you do it?” Garcia says, glancing at Saskia. “She sleeps for like, thirty minutes at a time, and then she’s up like someone’s about to hurt her. I get that you do it with Hotch now, but Spence and I struggled together. How’d you do it alone?”

“They’re not usually so bad, I thought she’d be okay for a couple of days until she realised. A lot of sleeping in my bed, two a.m. snacks. It’s not that you’re bad at it, Pen, don’t worry about it. It’s just your place is new, her routine was out.”

“Yeah,” Garcia breathes. 

“Took her a while to warm up to Hotch, too,” you stage whisper and Aaron chuckles. Garcia looks surprised at that information, but it calms her a little. “I’m sorry she was like that.”

“She loves you a lot,” Garcia smiles. “You’re very lucky. She demanded bi-hourly updates of if you were okay.”

“I hope you guys made them up well,” you say. Garcia and Hotch share a look and you cock your head at them.

“Hotch sent them to me,” Garcia admits. “Sometimes he rang if the nightmare was really bad.”

You try so hard not to melt at Aaron, who’s kneeling at the foot of your bed, talking to Saskia lowly. She’s nodding, hands in her lap, and sometimes she’ll shift on the bed and say something that you can’t hear which makes Aaron either nod or smile. 

“You didn’t know?” Garcia says and clutches her hands over her heart. “Oh my. Honey, he is very in love with you.”

“I’d hope so.”

Aaron checks his phone, then taps the mattress to grab your attention. “Morgan wants to know if he can take Saskia out of school for the day.”

You pull a face that tells Aaron ‘yes’ and Saskia ‘we’ll think about it’. “Are you cool with that, Saskia?”

Saskia nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically, and you can’t blame her because you wouldn’t have wanted to be at school either. 

“Strauss has given everyone the next couple of days off,” Aaron says. “We’re only getting called in if there’s a serial killer in the White House.”

“Ugh, don’t test fate, Aaron,” you groan and he smiles. 

“Garcia, I might have to borrow you, Reid and Prentiss this afternoon,” Aaron says, Garcia nodding with Reid.

Morgan comes by half an hour later, slipping a too big baseball cap onto Saskia's head. 

“Alright, Kiddo, ready to say goodbye to Mom and Dad for the day? I need your keen eye for a thing or two.” Morgan nods to Hotch and Saskia brushes off her hands.

“Okay, what’re we doing?” she asks and Morgan shrugs.

“Gotta say bye to Mom and Dad first.”

Saskia jumps off the bed, coming up to you and kissing her hand to press it against your cheek. 

“Bye,” she says. 

“Bye Sweetie. Be good for Derek, okay?”

“Yes Mom,” she sighs dramatically, but she smiles and it’s sweet.

“Have fun,” you say, waving, and she nods, waving back.

***

Saskia’s covered head to toe in dirt, paint, sawdust and wood chips, and most of it is stuck in her hair which is going to be impossible to get out, but she’s beaming so brightly and hasn’t stopped talking for forty minutes.

Morgan had taken her to one of the houses she’s restoring, and they’d spent the day fixing it up. (Restoring, you can already feel Morgan correcting). Saskia keeps talking about the stairway bannisters that they found in the attic, and how Morgan and let her find the matching paint colours from the paint chips they’d taken from the kitchen. 

“Don’t forget to tell Mom about the door knobs we found,” Morgan smiles and Saskia lights up.

“So Uncle Derek took me to this new place, he’s been there like twice, and we were looking for similar door knobs to the ones Uncle Derek has in the place he’s restoring, cause they’re really old and he can’t find originals.” 

You widen your eyes as you nod because Saskia sounds like she’s about to just talk in circles.

“Okay, guess what?” Saskia says.

“What?” you respond.

“We found originals!” 

“No way,” you gasp and Derek nods.

“This little superhero even bargained the price for me,” Derek says proudly. “She did a pretty good job too.”

Saskia shrugs. “I just pretended I was Dad and did the face.”

“The face?” you prompt, and she gives her best impression of Aaron that makes her look very important, and you think if she was anyone else’s kid you’d be scared of her too. “That’s a very good face.”

“Mhmm. Where is Dad?”

“I don’t know,” you say truthfully. “I think he’s gone home for a change of clothes and a nap.”

Saskia nods. “I hope he eats. He should eat. Can I call Dad and tell him to eat?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes as you hand her your phone and she climbs into the chair that Aaron’s made his home and calls him. 

“Thank you for today, Derek. I really appreciate it,” you say as Derek squeezes the rail at the end of your bed. “She looks like she had a good time.”

“She did, yeah.”

“How did you know that she’d like it, or was it a good guess?”

“Garcia,” Derek says. “She has a replica 1940’s dollhouse on one of her shelves, and Saskia pulled it all apart last night. Not physically,” he says quickly. “She drew it. The whole thing first, then room by room, then detail by detail. Here.” He pulls out a wad of paper and hands it to you, letting you look through it.

“These are really good,” you say, looking over to her where she’s content talking to Aaron, pressing the chair up to the window so she can look out at the building across from your room.

“She’s got a genuine talent,” Derek nods. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Where’d Hotch go?” he asks. “He’s been pretty big on not leaving you. I think he almost killed the paramedics when they said he couldn’t ride along in the ambulance.”

“I actually have no idea,” you say. “He wouldn’t leave so I just gave him a bunch of tasks to do: find me a book, get changed, get a coffee. There’s only so much pity face I can deal with.”

Derek laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t understand how he’s our boss, yet so useless.”

“Dad says he heard that,” Saskia says, whipping her head around. Morgan grimaces.

“Can I keep my job?”

“Yeah,” Saskia responds, exasperated, and turns back to the window. 

“Are you doing okay?” Morgan asks and you just point to the wires sticking out of you, and the heart monitor beeping away in the background. He pulls a ‘not like that’ face.

“Not really,” you say. “But life happens.”

“That wasn’t really life.”

“Derek,” you say softly but he doesn’t drop it. For the first time since you got the news you let your hand rest on your stomach and blink back the impending tears. “No.”

“Good,” he says, but it’s not nasty. “I’d worry if you were doing fine.”

Saskia hangs up and pulls herself up into your bed, leaning her head on your shoulder. She hesitates, then rests her hand across your stomach and closes her eyes. In seconds she’s asleep, and you wonder why she never does that at home.

“I should have known,” you say quietly. Morgan doesn’t need to hear it, but he’s there, and he’s… well, listening. Not that Aaron doesn’t listen, Morgan just listens differently. Or it’s that he’s not Aaron, and it’s easier to admit it to Morgan because he’s not… 

He pulls the chair over to your bed, rests his hand on your arm. “You can’t have known, and it’s not your fault that you didn’t.”

“I should have, though.” 

“No,” Morgan says, this time forcefully like he’s cutting your spiral off. “You can grieve this, but you can’t blame yourself. You didn’t know, and that’s not your fault. You saved a little girl yesterday, and if you start spiralling with a thousand ‘what if’s’ think about this: if you’d done anything differently, we never would have found Chloe, and she wouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t be safe with her parents. She’d be where you were, and that’s not somewhere you want to put a kid.”

You shake your head, squeezing Saskia’s shoulders, and you’re about to spiral again but Morgan beats you to it.

“I don’t know how she does it, but Garcia believes everything happens for a reason. The good and the bad, and maybe Chloe was your reason.”

You press your lips to Saskia’s hair, breathing her in beneath all the extra stuff.

“Why does it have to have a reason?” you mumble into her hair.

Morgan shrugs. “I don’t think everything has a reason. But I thought it might help.”

‘Maybe,” you sigh. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he says. “Believe it or not, it’s never happened to me.” You smirk as he motions to his body. “But you’re going to have good days, and bad days, and I know you’re engaged to Hotch--King of Compartmentalising--but don’t ride out the bad days on your own.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

He shakes his head, then shrugs. “My sister.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Knock, knock,” Haley says quietly and Morgan pulls away from you, looking at his hands like he’s been caught doing something bad. “Derek,” Haley says coldly.

“Haley,” he responds in the same tone.

“Please, no hostility in this room, you’re sapping all the good energy I’ve worked so hard manifesting,” it’s mainly a joke but both Morgan and Haley nod. 

“You’re looking better,” Haley says softly. 

“Don’t be fooled, it’s the painkillers. Are you here for this lil munchkin?”

“I am, but I also brought you a visitor.” Out from behind her comes Jack, holding a teddy bear that’s almost twice as big as him. 

“It’s for you and Daddy,” Jack says. “Mommy says it’ll help when he snores.”

“It surely is big enough to smother him,” you smile as Haley picks him up and puts him on the edge of your bed, the bear safely wedged between you and Jack. Saskia shuffles but doesn’t wake. “I’d tell you to give it to Daddy, but I’m not sure where he is.”

“Downstairs we just had donuts,” Jack says. “Do they hurt?” he asks, pointing at your hand.

“Nope,” you say back.

“Did they give you a sticker? They always gave me a sticker.”

“Lucky duck,” you smile, tapping his nose. “Saskia didn’t have a good night last night,” you tell Haley. “But she had a good day with Derek.” Morgan nods briefly. 

“A movie and pizza?” Haley offers. You wince and shrug.

“She had burgers, noodles, and Doctor Who last night.”

“Normal food night?” Jack asks, but surprisingly he doesn’t sound disappointed. “Can we have the greek chicken wraps?”

“Greek yoghurt chicken wraps?” you whine and Jack nods excitedly. “Lucky. You and Saski are going to have to eat some for me.”

“I’m gonna head out,” Morgan says, soothing down Saskia’s hair. 

“Thank-you,” you smile as he starts to leave. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime. Seeya, Haley.” 

Haley responds with something a little more civilised and you’re grateful for it.

“Did Daddy eat his donut?” you ask, pushing his fringe off his face. Jack shakes his head but Haley’s nodding.

“It took him a very long time, but he finished it,” she reassures you. “He’s got a couple more things on your list to do and then he’s done. Smart thinking with the list.”

“Learnt it from my favourite of his ex wives,” you say and Haley clutches her hand over her chest.

“Me? I’m flattered.”

Saskia’s eyes flutter open and she sits up, reaching over to ruffle Jack’s hair affectionately. Then they’re yammering at each other like they’ve got their own language. Which doesn’t seem that far off when you realise Haley isn’t understanding them either.

“How long has that been going on?” you ask as Haley sits.

“I have no idea. It’s not even pig latin. They just came up to my room one day doing it.” 

You smile at them. “Better than when we used to name everyone after Grease characters.”

“Much better,” Haley laughs. “If everything goes well tonight and tomorrow, they’re letting you go home.”

“Please,” you groan. “I hate being here.”

“Aaron looked like he had a rough night, which means you had a worse one.” 

“He talked Saskia down from a rough night, apparently.”

“Bless him,” she smiles. 

“I just want to go home and forget all this,” you sigh, leaning up against the pillows. “Which means nothing, because all this is still going to be there.” You motion to your whole body. 

“It means something, it means you get to be home. And you don’t get prodded every twenty minutes. And you can wear something other than paper.” She scrunches your hospital outfit beneath her forefinger and thumb.

“Sounds fine by me.”

Aaron comes in five minutes later, dropping a bag under the window before kissing Jack and Saskia on the tops of their heads. He frowns at Saskia, picking some wood chips out of her hair.

“Is this the remnants of a good day with Morgan?” Aaron asks as he flicks a couple more pieces free.

“Oh yeah,” she says. “It was so cool, we matched paint chips with new paint and restored stair bannisters and found doorknobs.”

“That sounds very fun,” Aaron says even though his face says otherwise. 

“When can we go home?” Saskia asks. “I miss Mom’s shampoo.”

“That’s very specific,” Aaron hums before going to the window and leaning against it. 

“Spencer said sometimes when he’s feeling uncomfortable it helps to list things you miss. Last night he helped me list things, and Mom’s shampoo is one of them.”

“Not my conditioner?” 

“No. Just the shampoo.”

Aaron smiles softly. 

“Do you want to go home tonight, or stay at Auntie Haley’s?” you ask. “I’m sure Dad could take you home and you guys could come back in the morning.”

Aaron’s eyes flicker like he doesn’t want to, but then he’s nodding.

“Auntie Haley,” Saskia says. “Dad should stay with you. He worries.”

***

The moment you’re discharged is the best and worst day of your life.

The best because you get to go home, the worst because everything still hurts. You suppose it’s going to hurt for a while. Haley’s got Saskia up at the apartment, apparently the two of them are making soup for dinner according to Aaron. It takes a while to get up the stairs, even using Aaron as support, but it’s all worth it to see the way Saskia’s face lights up as you come in.

And the soft glow down the darkened corridor that leads to Aaron’s old office, where Saskia’s draped fairy lights over the door. Saskia catches you looking and smiles.

“Do you want to see? Dad and Emily and Spencer did it the other day when I was helping uncle Derek.” She wipes her hands on her pants, then runs to you and takes your hand. She doesn’t tug on your arm, but walks slowly at your pace until you get to the door.

Her door has a new name plate on it that you’ve never seen, rainbow calligraphy spelling out ‘Saskia’.

“Jack’s got one too,” Saskia says. “Spencer found a lady on the way to the mall who does them.”

“Cool,” you smile. 

She pushes the door open to almost an exact replica of her room, only with minute changes (like a loft bed that’s only half height, that you’re sure Aaron chose), and a cute picture of you, Aaron, Jack and Saskia at a picnic you’d forgotten you’d all had. She’s covered the frame in glitter which makes you smile.

“This looks really nice,” you smile. Saskia nods excitedly, bounces over to her bed and says ‘look!’, pulling down her blanket so it falls down the edge of her bed, making the bottom into a fort.

“Quiet spot,” she says proudly. “And everything except my books glow in the dark.” She ushers you in, smiling when you point to the glow in the dark stars that are stuck to the slats at the base of her bed. “Spencer said they’re real constellations.”

“Can he make me one?” 

“No,” Saskia says forcefully. “You have Dad.” She picks up a glowing rock and passes it to you. “I missed having you around.”

“I missed being around,” you whisper, turning the rock over in your hand and placing it on a shelf. “Can I give you a hug?”

She nods, closing the distance and wrapping her arms around your stomach. It’s so nice to be able to actually hug her, not maneuver yourself around the hospital wires. You kiss her hair, rubbing her back.

“You were very brave, I’m very proud of you.”

“I know,” she says back. 

“What do you want to do tonight?” 

“Two chapters of Harry Potter,” she says like she’s planned it for days. “And then I want to sleep with normal sounds.”

“Normal sounds?”

“You and Dad talk for a really long time, and he makes you laugh, and he snores. Sometimes it’s annoying but I miss it when it’s not there.”

“Me too.”

***

“Do they hurt?” Aaron asks, eyeing the bandages over your hips and stomach.

“Not when I’ve taken my painkillers,” you respond, pulling one of his shirts over your head, bathing in the scent of it. “Saskia says she misses your snoring,” you tease as you climb into bed, moving the massive bear to the end of the bed. Aaron pulls back the covers, not responding until you’re under them.

“I don’t snore.”

“You do a little,” you tease, kissing his jaw. “You do this little whistle too. Or hum.” 

“I don’t,” he whines. You rest your head on his shoulder, hand on his stomach, and mimic the little hums he sometimes does when he’s deep in sleep. 

“You’re not any better,” he says, kissing your forehead and lingering there.

“I don’t pretend not to, though.”

“I was really scared that I’d lost you,” he says, squeezing your shoulder. 

“I was really scared too,” you respond, closing your eyes. “I’m happy to be home.”

“Happy to have you home.”

And despite the fact that Aaron holds you like you’ll crumple under his touch, it’s nice to sleep in his arms rather than to hold his hand in the great abyss that was between his cot and your bed. Even when it’s 3am and you wake because Saskia’s climbing into your bed.

Aaron moves blindly, not waking, moving so Saskia can fit between the two of you, and lets out the tiniest snore-meet-whistle that makes both of you snicker.

“He does,” Saskia says matter of factly as she nestles herself in the gap between your pillows.

“Yes he does,” you smile, kissing her forehead. “Back to sleep.”

“Night,” she mumbles, turning to face you.

“Night,” you whisper to her precious, peaceful, sleeping face.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~someone's slowly pressing the 'reset to normal' button on the universe~

The first couple of days, being home is incredible. In fact, you’re pretty sure the only way to get Aaron to stay at home and not do paperwork is to almost die. Which is fine until you’re tripping over Aaron’s feet, not your own. You just want to mush his face in your hands and tell him that you’re fine and he needs to go back to work, but every other hour he’s telling you that if the team need him, the team will call him.

Which is true, yeah, but you really just want things to get back to normal. It feels awful to admit that you want him to stay late at the office doing paperwork, just so you can call and tell him off, or just to be alone for five minutes. Long enough to run down the street and buy a burger or something. 

But then, also, it’s fine because he’s there when your energy leaves you like a dementor’s sucked your soul out, and he’s there when Saskia needs help with her homework and you’re too out of it to actually see what’s on the page. 

Or like now, when the world’s decided it’ll remind you that it’s falling apart while you’re in the shower. Aaron finds you curled in the corner of the shower, legs hugged to your chest, as the water cascades over you. You’re not even sure if the water’s warm anymore. 

He doesn’t strip out of his clothes. He kicks off his shoes and his sweater, but that’s it. Then he’s climbing into the shower with you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. Which is where you sit, unmoving, for what could have been forever, until Aaron reaches over and turns the water off.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” Aaron says softly, leaving the shower dripping wet and coming back with a dry towel, draping it over you. He helps you up, then sheds his sopping wet clothes so he doesn’t get the carpet wet and grabs a towel, wrapping it around his waist.

He helps you get changed and redress your wounds--even when you protest, mainly because your protests are too quiet and meek to be taken seriously--then combs your hair with his fingers because he can’t find your brush. He presses a long, precious, kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his chest and just holding you there.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, bringing your arms up to squeeze him. He doesn’t say anything back, just stays there, breathing you in. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says at last, dropping to his knees and leaning on your lap. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Aar,” you scoff and he gives you a look that you ignore. “I really, really, want things to go back to normal and I can’t even shower without crying. And look at you, you’re fine.”

“I’m not fine,” he whispers like it’s a promise. “Things aren’t just going to go back to normal. It’s going to take a little bit, and that’s okay.”

“I don’t want it to take a little bit, Aaron,” you whine and he climbs up on the bed beside you, drawing you into his arms. 

“I know, me neither.” He kisses your temple. “But Saskia’s getting back into a routine, which is good, and that’s going to help.”

“Are you going to get back into a routine?” you tease, nudging your face into his neck.

“I can do it now,” he teases right back. “I’m sure my suits are calling, and I can slip into the building and work until 2am.”

“Sneak back home at five so it looks like you’ve only just woken up but you smell like those stupid cleaning wipes they use on the desk,” you mumble.

“You smell that?”

“All the time. It made me sick for a good couple of weeks.” Then you whine into his neck, remembering why, and he rubs your back. “This feels like shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Can we break the house rules for a bit?”

“Mmmm?”

“I want to talk about work. Just for a bit. Maybe do some.” 

He nods. “Let me just put some pants on.”

“Naww,” you pout, watching as he dramatically pulls his towel off and does a little dance that makes you smile. Properly smile. He notices but doesn’t say anything, he just looks proud with this little smug smile. 

You set up what casefiles the two of you do have on the kitchen table, spreading them out with room for both of you to put your laptops. You boil the kettle and grab out two tea mugs (earl grey for Aaron, herbal for yourself--doctor's orders), smiling at Aaron who meanders in, pulling a sweater over his head.

He glances over the table once, then grabs your laptops from beside the couch and sets them up. You pass him his tea when it’s done, blowing on yours as you pick up a couple of reports the team wrote up that you have to look over. It’s nothing important, mostly things that can wait to be filed (thankfully). 

Emily’s report has a little green sticky note with love hearts all over it shoved between the pages. Ever since you moved from the bullpen she and Garcia had made it their mission to add flare to anything they had to hand to you--which ended up giving you a small collection of different coloured sticky notes with cartoon caricatures of the team, love hearts, stars and (positive) affirmations from Garcia, and little Gothy quips from Emily. 

You’ve got nowhere to put this one, so you stick it on the lid of your laptop and soothe it over. Aaron looks at it and smirks. He’s seen the collection in your office more than once. He’s even been known to add a note or two to your wall if you’re not in. You find a report Todd’s written up and thumb through it.

It’s not… bad. But it’s not good. It lacks something that you can’t quite put your thumb on.

“How do we feel about Jordan Todd?” you ask, sitting down and putting your tea on top of your stack of files. Aaron leaves it for a second, then he grabs a coaster and puts the tea on it. Oddly, it’s a breath of fresh air. Yesterday he would have just left it even though it would drive him mad.

“‘We’ don’t have opinions on anyone,” Aaron says, thumbing at a file. “Individual opinion, though, is I’m not sure why JJ thought she was a suitable replacement. Even for a short amount of time.”

You heave a sigh of relief.

“Neither. I’m sure she was good in, what, internal affairs? Anti-terrorism?”

“Counter terrorism,” Aaron corrects. “Internal affairs? Really?”

“She’s not a bad agent,” you say, ignoring him. “But something’s just off about her.” You go through her file once more then discard it to the table. “It feels awful to say that she’s just too innocent.”

“How so?”

“Or her skin’s just too thin. I don’t know, I never want people to turn out like us. Able to compartmentalize what ‘we’ did, and what the unsub did. And I can’t blame her for not being able to do that, that’s good, but fuck--don’t take the job if you can’t.” 

“JJ thought she was a good choice.”

“Sure, she can hold her own against the team, that’s needed. But manipulating families? Just to talk? Damn.”

“You heard about that?”

“Derek told me. And Todd, later though. I wasn’t there, but apparently you were quite firm with her. And it was a teensy tiny bit hot.” You look up at him with a small smirk. The tips of his ears go red and he turns back to the file like he hasn’t just heard. 

“She was using initiative.”

“Emily told you not to be so hard on her.”

He nods. “Emily told me not to be so hard on her. However, I will be glad when JJ returns.”

“Same here.”

You open your laptop, waiting for it to boot up. Aaron glances up at you quickly, then his foot rubs your thigh, hooking your ankle, and you let him. It’s hours before you’re both finishing work, Aaron pushes it more than you do because he’s on his third cup of tea and he’s pretty sure he’s got a headache threatening to come.

“Doctor says you can come back to work in fifteen days,” he says as he puts your laptops back.

“I know, Saskia put it on the calendar.”

“In glitter glue,” Aaron smiles and you grimace. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I like it.” He kisses your cheek as he grabs up the files and puts them back in his briefcase.

“Thank you for moving all the important stuff in,” you say. “Feels like home.”

“I’m glad,” he responds, dropping a quick kiss to your lips. “Having you and Saskia here makes it feel like home.”

“Cutie.”

He switches off the light and wraps his arm around your waist as he guides you towards the bedroom. You drop onto the bed as Aaron double checks the house (front door locked, Saskia’s asleep) then he joins you, wrapping an arm around you as he settles in to sleep.

***

Aaron returns to work, and it’s a blessing. You and Saskia go for breakfast at a diner, then you drop her at school, return to the diner. You complete a couple of emails, and a couple of phone calls (one from Strauss that tells you to stop working) and then head home.

There’s a little freezer bag by your door, with a note pinned to the top. You pick it up, frowning, until you read the note.

‘Doctor cleared it. -Derek.’

You peek inside, a tub of triple choc icecream inside. Immediately you text Derek ‘Saint! X’ and he texts you back almost immediately with ‘enjoy’. 

Haley comes by soon after, also brandishing a tub of icecream.

“Thought we could watch some shitty TV while Jack’s a school.” 

“We absolutely can,” you say, ushering her inside.

You both spend the morning flicking between Keeping Up With The Kardashians and Say Yes to the Dress while eating icecream straight out the tub. Haley hums quietly, sucking on the spoon, then turns to you.

“So what are you wearing to your wedding?” Haley asks.

“Clothes?”

She deadpans you. “When are you going dress shopping?” (You shrug) “Oh, come on, none of that. You have to go dress shopping. When do you go back to work?”

“Fourteen days.”

“Okay, so.” She messes around on her phone for a bit, makes a couple of phone calls, and then drops back next to you. “Three appointments for dress shopping. You will have a dress.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“The second one is at this cute shop, I went with a friend a while back, the shop is… adorable. The appointment's on the weekend because they include the kids, they'll do dress fittings for Saskia too. They’re really good.”

“She’ll like that.”

Your phone rings and you answer it, smiling at Aaron’s photo ID.

“Hello Stranger,” you say as Haley grabs your legs, putting them in her lap and taking the ice cream from you. 

“Hey, how are you doing?”

“I’m good,” you smile, trying not to react when Haley puts the icecream tub directly on your ankles. “Hales and I are just watching crappy TV waiting for the murders to turn up.”

“Are not!” Haley says, tapping the spoon on your shins.

“Ugh, gross, you’re not putting that back in your mouth my shins could have been anywhere.”

“Nothing I haven’t already slept with.”

You think you hear Aaron laugh, but you can’t be quite sure. “Everything’s fine?”

“Yes, Aaron, I know how to look after myself.”

You hear Todd come in, she starts talking before Aaron’s even acknowledged her, and Aaron’s quick to respond that he’ll meet the team at the round table until Todd follows up about a child abduction.

“I’ll call you back,” he says as way of goodbye and hands up. You sigh, discarding your phone to the coffee table.

“Case?” Haley asks, offering you the tub.

“Case,” you confirm, and despite Haley’s worried look--you smile.

Because, slowly, everything’s getting back to normal.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooooome Jack & Saskia time lies ahead!

When it becomes evident that the case is going to take the full 48 hours, Haley insists you and Saskia come over, and she’s quite insistent that you both stay the night. You have to wonder if Aaron organised it with her earlier.

"Hi Auntie!" Jack says excitedly as you come through the door, screeching when he sees Saskia. She drops her bag by the door like she lives there, rushing forward and gathering Jack into her arms and spinning him around. 

“How was school?” Saskia asks as she sets him down. 

“So cool, we got to paint things. Do you want to come play dinosaurs?”

“Oh, yeah, dinosaurs? So cool.”

“Do your homework later, Saskia,” you call after her as she follows Jack to his dinosaurs. Saskia just makes a sound that could have been ‘yes mom’ and Haley ushers you into the kitchen.

You both cut up a bunch of fruits for the kids (who made you both Those Mom’s?), throw them into some bowls, and walk them out to the kids. Jack’s crouched behind the couch, making tiny ‘hissing’ noises before roaring. Saskia’s crawling in front of the couch, trying to swat at Jack underneath the couch even though her arms are too short to reach.

“I thought we were playing dinosaurs,” you say curiously as you set the bowls down. 

“Triceratops are scared of cats,” Saskia says like it explains everything. 

“Do triceratops and cats eat apples and bananas?” 

“Yes!” says Jack quickly and he’s squeezing out from behind the couch, bursting forth and jumping for the bowls. He sits cross legged, placing his bowl delicately in his lap, then picks at his fruit.

Saskia, on the other hand, nestles herself under the coffee table, chewing the skin off her apple pieces before she eats them. 

“Do you feel better?” Jack asks as he mushes his banana between his fingers then plops it in his mouth. 

“I do,” you smile. “Thanks for asking, Jack.” 

“I’m glad you feel better. Everyone was really worried,” he says so simply that you can’t help but smile, lean over, and ruffle his hair.

“I know, Buddy.”

He hands you a piece of banana that you can’t refuse, smiling at you. “Are you and Saskia staying for a sleepover?” 

“I think so,” you say and Haley rolls her eyes.

“Yes, yes they are,” Haley says forcefully and Jack pumps his fist in the air triumphantly. 

“Ice-cream night,” he says like it’s the best day ever. The innocence of childhood, you think. “Mom can we go to the park before dinner?”

“Uhh…” Haley scrunches up her face as she thinks about it. “Yes. If you get your shoes on and you’re okay to walk slower.”

He shoves the rest of the contents of his bowl in his mouth like a chipmunk, then runs to his room with Haley calling ‘Swallow!’ after him. Saskia runs her finger over her empty bowl, brushes off her hands, and says she’s going to get changed.

The walk is, indeed, slow. If only because Saskia says she can give Jack a piggy back, and ends up tripping over her own feet, and in an effort to keep Jack from grazing his knees and hands (which she does) she slides along the cement. She’s okay, just a couple of grazes on her knees, and some blood on her jeans, but she’s up and running quicker than you’ve ever seen her bounce back. Jack’s close on her heels, every now and then she slows down to Jack’s speed and takes his hand. When she’s decided she’s fine enough she’d bending to haul Jack back up on her back.

“How’d you do it?” Haley asks once you’ve reached the park, waving to Jack as Saskia lifts him up to the monkey bars and stays directly below him the whole time.

“Hmmm?” you respond softly. 

“Raise Saskia on your own, and work?”

“Hard work,” you say, watching as Jack lands on the platform and Saskia launches herself up on top of the monkey bars. “Really hard, but apparently parenting is just all trial and error.”

“That’s what Jess says,” Haley says, disheartened. 

“Hey,” you say softly, rubbing her back. “You’re doing a great job. I mean really, really great job. If it was easy you wouldn’t be doing it right. If you ever feel like you need a break, you call me.”

“I feel dumb asking for help, though. How am I a good Mom if I have to take a break?”

You wrap an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into you. “I know how that feels. But you’re not a ‘bad mom’ for taking a break. Kids are intense.” 

“Right? You give birth to them, you’d expect them to be able to leave you alone for five minutes.”

“Even if they do, you’re constantly worrying about them.”

“Jack decided to take nap time into his own hands the other day,” Haley says. “He slept under the bed? Not on the mattress, but under the bed, wrapped up in his blanket. I was genuinely looking for him for ages, I was this close--” she pinches the air-- “this close to calling Aaron, I thought he’d been kidnapped. I found him just before I was going to have a breakdown, like full sobbing on the floor before calling Aaron, and he was just there. Sleeping peacefully. He thought he’d get in trouble for napping because it wasn’t nap time but he was just tired.”

You have to give her a sympathetic laugh. “Poor thing. You and Jack both.”

“I didn’t mean to make him feel like tha--”

“Haley, all kids see in absolutes. Saskia used to sleep in the closet, she moved her shoes all to one side. It was the only place she could see the front door from, and she’d take little bursts of naps until she heard me come home, then she’d sneak into my bed.”

“That’s so cute.”

“Ehhhhh, bad mother.” You squeeze her and she puts her head on your shoulder. “Also, the moms at school are going to make you feel like a horrible mother. They make each other feel like horrible mothers, but doubly so for anyone who doesn’t fit their pretty little white picket fence house and two point five kids ideal.”

“Two point five kids?”

“I dunno, Hales, maybe they have three kids and only love the middle one a smidge.” 

Haley laughs. “Probably.”

“You will not believe how many times I’ve been yelled at by some stay-at-home Mom with her high-paying-Vegas-loving husband because I brought store bought cupcakes to a bake sale or something.” (Haley laughs, but you’re shaking your head). “One time we’d just landed from a case that went for like, a week, and I remembered that Saskia was supposed to bring cupcakes for this kids birthday. So I rang bakery dad loves, and ordered a bunch of cupcakes, and one of the Mom’s lost it because ‘she’d been up all night baking when it was her turn’. Like, congratulations, did you catch a serial killer though?”

Saskia finally gets Jack on top of the monkey bars, his white knuckle grip on the bars is completely adorable.

“She’s going to get Jack in trouble,” Haley says.

“He’s going to be the coolest guy in her class,” you smile. “He’ll be the only one who can get up on the bars, everyone’ll be flocking to learn.”

“Trouble,” Haley repeats.

“Maybe that’s the beauty of our friendship. I got you in trouble in highschool, my daughter gets your son in trouble during school.”

“You did not get me in trouble during highschool,” Haley defends.

“I beg to differ,” you smile as Saskia lowers Jack down from the monkey bars, then hangs upside down, flips, and drops. 

It’s a good hour before Saskia and Jack are asking to go home. Saskia takes Haley’s hand, Jack taking yours. 

“Being a pirate is really hard work,” Jack says as he looks up at you.

“I bet it is,” you smile, tugging him close to you. “But is it good work?”

“Uh… Well, you get to talk to a parrot so… yeah, good work.” 

“I might have to retire and become a pirate,” you say whimsically and Jack shrugs.

“If you become a pirate you might have to get a wooden leg.”

“Or a hook for a hand.”

“Only bad guys have hooks for hands,” Jack tells you. “I don’t think you’re a bad guy.”

“Thank-you, Jack,” you smile.

***

Jack and Saskia insist on the story being a rather thick picture book, which Haley says she’ll read if they’re both quiet on the couch. Saskia curls up against her side, reading along silently, and Jack’s got his favourite blanket over his shoulders like a cape. For a while he sits by your feet, then ever so carefully he inches his way up the couch until he’s lying almost on top of you, blanket over his shoulders.

When Haley’s finished reading you realise you’re both in the same position, Saskia asleep over Haley, Jack asleep over you.

“We can’t possibly move,” Haley whispers to you and you shake your head by way of agreement.

“We have to stay here forever.” 

Jack curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, his thumb somehow finding his mouth. You fix the blanket over his shoulder and smooth his hair down. 

“You did a good job, Hales,” you whisper. “Still are.”

“You too,” she whispers back, her arm wrapped around Saskia’s shoulders. “Ten minutes?” 

“Ten minutes,” you confirm. 

It’s the most blissful ten minutes of your life, and it draws out into almost an hour, until the two of you have the guts to wake either kid. Saskia blunders blindly to wherever Haley leads her, but Jack’s a little harder to wake. Actually, he doesn’t really wake at all, he just grips at your neck.

Haley helps you pry him from your neck so you can get him into bed, the two of you tucking him in.

“Saskia go down alright?” you whisper and Haley nods.

You both say goodnight to your respective children, then somehow meander your way from two glasses of wine and a romcom that you both actively ‘boo’ at while also crying, to curling up in Haley’s bed under one of the softest blankets you’ve ever felt in your life.

“Where is this from and can I get twenty?” you sigh, balling the top in your hands and hold it under your nose.

“Dad bought it,” Haley says. “I’ve got no idea. But it would never survive Aaron.”

“Oh, no it wouldn’t,” you laugh. 

“He’d fiddle with it to death.”

“Sometimes he’s worse than Saskia, I just want to hold him a ball of clay while he works.”

“You know what he used to do when Jack was teething?” Haley asks, turning to you. You shake your head. “We had this fish things, the ones you put in the fridge with the gel in them,” (you nod) “he used to have one for Jack, and then the other one he’d leave beside him like he’d give it to Jack, but he always ended up fiddling with it until it was warm, and then he’d just fucking chew it.”

“Okay,” you defend. “But it’s addicting, Haley, and so much better than eating.”

“Of course,” she laughs. “I expect nothing less.”

Your phone lights up and you pat around for it. “Speak,” you moan and Haley presses her face into her pillows and screams.

“Hey, we just landed, I’ve got some paperwork to do then I should be home,” Aaron says. 

“Don’t rush,” you say back. “I’m at Haley’s. Saskia’s asleep. Say hi, Haley.” You hold the phone over to her.

“Fuck off,” Haley groans, rolling into you. “It’s like eleven at night, that’s sleep time.”

“It is sleep time,” you agree. “And it’s really fucking nice to have it as sleep time.”

You can physically hear the way Aaron’s shoulders heave as he tries not to sigh. “Alright, I’ll leave you both to sleep.” A pause and then-- “Yeah, I’ll take it in a second” that’s not directed at either of you. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah. We can grab breakfast, work permitting?”

“That sounds nice. Yeah, Reid, one second. I have to go,” he says apologetically. “Sleep well, both of you.”

“He says sleep well,” you relay to Haley.

“Tell him not to stay at the office too late,” Haley says. 

“I won’t,” Aaron says.

“I love you,” you say quickly before he has to hang up. 

“Love you too.”

Haley takes your phone and throws it to the end of the bed once you’ve hung up.

“No more phone calls,” she says. “Just us, and sleep.”

And you couldn’t agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~also there's a lil side piece I wrote called "Double,double toil and trouble" which is a future Hotchner fam halloween. It's precious and has a lil glimpse into what is to come which is *squeals* EXCITING~


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I know like 2 chapters ago i said 'child abduction' but I be wrong, it was supposed to be 'Cold Comfort' (first ep JJ's back from maternity leave)~ ~~and that's where we're at~~

"Say hi to dad," Saskia says as she launches out the car, her school bag over her shoulder, clutching a packed lunch from Haley. (Everything’s the same as when you pack Saskia’s lunch, but Haley cuts the sandwiches differently which makes hers perfect, obviously.)

"Be good," you call after her as she waves manically.

You meet Aaron at a roadside diner because it's halfway between home and the office. Aaron looks like he's going to fall asleep against the window, clutching at his coffee cup, as he desperately tries to keep his eyes open. 

"Please tell me you didn't drive," you say as you kiss his forehead and take a seat.

"I did and I regret it," he groans as his lips quirk into a tiny smile. "Did you have a nice night?" 

"I did, thanks. Did the case go okay?" 

"Yeah," he says quietly. The door opens and Aaron's eyes snap to it guiltily before returning to the table. "Talk about it at home. Nothing about the case, just the team." 

"Okay," you smile, taking his hand. "Have you ordered?"

"Uh, no." 

He looks a little more awake by the end of breakfast, and he says that he's going back to the office but you'll be damned if you let him go back with eyebags that big. It takes a little bit of convincing before you’re convincing Aaron that he can leave his car at Quantico and pick it up tomorrow. Or at least later that day, when he didn’t look like death warmed up. 

When you’re home he showers, puts on a cup of coffee (that you promptly turn off), and then he flops on the couch. It takes him a while to realise you’ve turned the coffee off, but by the time he has it’s too late because you’ve got his head in your lap, carding your fingers through his hair.

He hums, like he’s unaware of the sound, nuzzling into you. 

“Do you think there’s credit to psychics?” he asks out of the blue.

“Aren’t they just profilers who monopolise off people’s grief?” you respond cynically. “It’s a bunch of generalisation, guess work, and being able to back track whenever you guess something wrong. At least that’s what, uh, ah… fuck, that agent from CBI says.”

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, I did a tactical training course with her. Well, ran it, she attended. What was her name? Liz? Elizabeth? Lisbon. I think. She hired that TV psychic, the one whose family was murdered, as a consultant.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbles into your leg. 

“Red John,” you say like it’ll jog his memory. He shakes his head then nods.

“Gideon wrote up a profile for that case, yeah,” he says. “Local PD never called us in, they thought he was bogus.”

“Mhmm, anyway, he says psychics are all baloney, so he’s probably right.” You run your fingernails across his scalp, eliciting a small but content sound from his chest. “What brought this on?”

“There was a psychic on the case, one of the parents brought him in.” He huffs, moving his head so his cheek is resting on your lap. “JJ told him about the case, because she thought he could help. And he did, kind of.”

“Anyone can profile, some people are wicked talented without even realising it.”

“He said it was near water,” Aaron groans.

“Everything’s near water, Aar,” you whisper, kissing his temple. “Unless you’re in the desert.”

“There was a beach mural right outside where we found them. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Maybe they’re legit, maybe they’re not,” you smile, twirling tufts of hair between your fingers. “Why’s it bother you so much?” 

“I dunno.”

“Lies,” you tease. “You do know.”

“If--IF--they’re right that makes cases so much more complicated,” he sighs and you rub his shoulder.

“Maybe, but that’s okay. We can solve them all on our own, psychic or no.” 

“Yeah,” he says quietly. He lets one arm fall off the side of the couch, knuckles grazing the carpet. You smile as he relaxes, shoulders loosening, and he leans into your touch. 

“You’re more worried about JJ going rogue for a minute than you are about a psychic being legit, Aar.”

“Yes,” he says quietly. 

“She’s readjusting, Aar. She’s young, she’s just had a baby, she wants the world to be right because she doesn’t want her kid growing up in a world full of murderers.” 

He nods as you draw circles over the back of his neck. 

“Go get some sleep,” you say, soothing down the hair that you’d messed up. He groans in protest, but doesn’t move, just snuggles into you like you haven’t got anything else to do with your day.

Which, to be fair, you don’t. But he doesn’t need to know that. He moves, flipping and curling up so he’s in as much of a ball as a grown man can. You smile, tracing a finger over his cheek, and his eyes flutter as he fights to stay awake. When he finally gives over to sleep you can’t help but see how much he looks like Jack, or Jack looks like him.

When he doesn’t wake or move for ten minutes you glance around to see what’s in reach to do other than stroke his hair. The remote’s next to the TV, so that’s pointless, and the magazine on the coffee table is definitely not a safer choice because if you lean over you’re sure you’ll hurt yourself again. 

One of Saskia’s books is shoved between the couch cushions, you’re not sure how she’s managed to do it so efficiently, and honestly it can’t hurt to read through. It’s about a little girl who lives at her Grandma’s house because her Mom works long hours, and she has a fairy garden. Not just flowers, but a full garden that leads into a fairy realm. The illustrations are gorgeous, you can’t even remember when you’d bought it for her but she’s written her name on the front page in cursive handwriting.

Cursive--incredibly carefully--in one of Aaron’s fountain pens. 

It’s definitely Aaron’s pen because you haven’t got a single pen that has ink that looks like that. And--oh, that’s precious. Saskia Hotchner, she’s written really carefully then crossed Hotchner out and put your maiden name underneath. And then, in a blue bullet point pen you know belongs to you, she’s written ‘probably both. Mom bought this for me from Vegas Airport!.’

“Probably both,” you laugh quietly to yourself, tracing your fingers over her handwriting. Aaron stirs, murmuring slightly, but he doesn’t wake . Not fully, anyway. Enough to check his watch and then drop back to sleep. 

He wakes with a start almost exactly fifteen minutes later, sitting up and scrubbing at his eyes. 

“I have to go back to work,” he says more to himself than to you. 

“Yeah,” you laugh, watching him being disorientated for a minute.

“I was going to go to bed,” he says, yawning against the back of his hand. “Sorry.”

“Do you want me to put coffee on while you get changed?” you offer and his nods really aren’t that far away from how Jack nods. Then he gets up, kissing you as he disappears to get changed. 

You switch the coffee pot back on, grabbing out one of his travel mugs. He comes out, fiddling with his tie, and wraps his arms around your waist. He presses his face into your neck, kissing it softly.

“I miss you at work,” he whispers. 

“You don’t even see me at work,” you giggle, squeezing his arm. “I’m literally down the hall and then some.”

“But you’re down the hall,” he says affectionately. 

“If you come home before midnight you won’t have to miss me,” you offer. “And, if you’re home before six thirty you’ll get something more than cafeteria food.” 

“Sounds amazing,” he says, before kissing your cheek and grabbing the travel mug out of your hands. “I won’t forget.”

“You’d better not,” you smile, kissing him quickly before he grabs his briefcase and heads out.

***

Saskia’s on the couch, legs pulled up to her chest, not really doing her homework but she’s trying. You sit beside her, pushing her hair behind her shoulders then run the back of your finger over her cheek. 

“Hey Sweetness,” you say softly then tap the book you’d been reading today. Saskia’s ears heat and she snatches it from you, holding it to her chest. “Would you like to change your last name? Because we can do that, if you want.”

“I kind of like both,” she says quietly. 

“That’s a lot of letters,” you say back and she nods.

“I counted it and if I get those bubble fill out tests I can’t fit my whole name so then I don’t have to do it,” she smiles proudly and you kiss her forehead.

“That’s very forward thinking, but that’s not how that works. But if you want, I can talk to Dad, and we can change it.” 

“After the wedding,” she says, a smile lighting up her face. “Which you and dad haven’t talked about yet.”

“Have you been talking to Auntie Haley?” you say, squinting at her playfully. She nods excitedly.

“Auntie Haley and I looked at magazines and colours and stuff and we’re putting everything into a photo album and then you can choose what you like.” Saskia’s far too proud of herself. You’re far too proud of her too. “Can I show you later?” she says. “After I’ve finished. I’m working really hard on the colours looking nice.”

“Absolutely,” you smile, kissing her forehead. “Did you put Dad’s fountain pen back where you found it?”

“Mhmm. And I asked before I used it.”

“Was he paying attention when you asked?”

Saskia’s smile practically splits in two. “Nope.”

She’s definitely your daughter.

***

Aaron’s twenty minutes late when you send him a passive aggressive message. Just a little.

Text to: Aar Head <3  
Guess who’s late!

You hand Saskia her plate and she sets herself up at the table, straightening her cutlery. You’re texting him that his dinner’s in the oven when the door opens, Aaron dropping his briefcase by the door and discarding his keys.

“It’s me, I’m late, I’m sorry,” he says all at once, kissing Saskia’s hair as you hand him his plate.

“It’s okay, you’re home,” you smile because, honestly, in the world of Aaron it’s pretty impressive that he’s managed to come home within the same hour that you’d told him to.

“Was your case okay?” Saskia asks, pulling her legs up on the chair to sit cross legged until she catches your eye and drops them back down.

“We caught the bad guys,” he says breathlessly, giving you a quick kiss before you both sit down. 

“But did you help the people the bad guys hurt?” Saskia asks, far more intense than you would have expected from her. Even Aaron seems a little taken aback.

“Yeah, we did,” Aaron says, trying to keep his brow from furrowing.

“You always smile after those cases,” Saskia says as she starts eating. “And you always make sure to come home after cases that are good, when they’re bad you come home really late.” Then she looks at him and smiles. “I like having you home in time for dinner.”

Aaron looks at you and raises his eyebrows before, he too, smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Saskia is PRECIOUS~  
> ~also, more tomorrow, I have lots of assignments due and i just realised it's far too late to continue writing~  
> ~Just out here casually bringing up the Mentalist because--why not~


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Saskia is a precious kidlet ahead~

Saskia steals Aaron away after her shower. 

You know she’s planning something, if only because she spent the time after her shower and before grabbing Aaron cleaning her room until it practically sparkles. She didn’t want to get the vacuum so you’d watched her brush the carpet clean with a dustpan and brush which had been hilarious. 

However, she shuts you out the moment she convinces Aaron to read her story.

She sits cross legged on her bed, picking up a little box with roses on it and flipping the lid off. 

“Choose one,” she says happily, displaying the contents of origami flowers. He fishes around for an orange rose he glimpsed at the bottom of the box.

“Did you make these?” he asks, clearly impressed. “They’re very good.”

“Yeah, there was a book of them in the hospital gift shop and I tried really hard to remember all the instructions.” She picks up a red one and twirls the paper stem in her fingers. “I made them better, though.”

“Of course you did, because these have their own little flavour of you,” he says affectionately. 

Saskia nods, then discards the box on her bed, and launches herself at Aaron, gathering him into a hug. His body stutters for a moment as he tries to process, then returns the hug. He smiles as she buries her face into his shoulder, squeezing him as tight as she can. 

“What’s this for?” he asks when Saskia doesn’t let go.

“You need one,” Saskia says and when he goes to let go she says “nuh uh uh you have to count to thirty.”

So he stays there until Saskia gives him permission to break the hug, which is far longer than counting to thirty. She grabs a pink paper rose and puts it in his breast pocket, patting it affectionately. 

“That one’s for Mom,” she says with a smile. “You can give it to her.”

“I will,” he promises. “Now how about that story?”

“One more thing,” Saskia says, folding her hands in front of her like she’s seen just about the whole team do. She scrunches up her face like she’s debating saying it, but Aaron knows she’s only doing it because you do it from time to time. “Dad,” she says at last. “After you and Mom get married, can I use your last name please?” 

Aaron tries to keep the look of surprise off his face, but a small smile tugs at the edges of his lips. “Of course you can, Saskia.”

“Cool!” she says, hugging him again. “I wanted to use both because it’s too many letters for those tests with the bubbles but Mom said that’s not how it works.”

“No it’s not,” Aaron laughs, squeezing the back of her head. 

“You’re a really good dad,” she says. “Thanks for staying with Mom.”

“Of course I’d stay with Mom.” 

“No one’s ever stayed with us before, even Grandad leaves before Mom’s really ok. You make Mom smile. Me too,” she says nonchalantly before pulling back and grabbing her book. 

Aaron scores his face into not looking heartbroken as he takes the book from Saskia, opening it to the page that she’s written ‘Saskia Hotchner’ on. He doesn’t mention the fountain pen, he knows that’s his fault because he vaguely remembers Saskia asking him something and him saying ‘yes’ without actually checking, then her coming back later and putting something next to him, and you used to do that in high school all the time. But Saskia knows, just by looking at his face, that he’s trying not to cry.

She shifts over and pats the mattress beside her.

“Mom says it always makes her feel better to sit here while she reads,” she smiles and Hotch huffs playfully, putting her box on her bedside table then sits next to her. 

“How many chapters, Little Miss?”

“Just one,” she says, yawning. “They’re long.”

“Hey, Saskia?” he whispers, pushing her hair out of her face. “I’m not going anywhere, not unless I’m going on a case.”

“I know,” she smiles. “Now read, Dad, let’s go before the pages run away because they’re bored.”

“Pages don’t run away when they’re bored.”

“You don’t know that.”

***

You jump slightly when Aaron wraps himself around you, rocking you gently as you brush your teeth.

“T-e bok wath tha’ good?” you say, trying to keep the toothpaste in your mouth. For the first time in months he seems to genuinely be smiling, not just the kind of smile he does when you say you’re fine. A genuine smile.

“I love you,” he says. 

You pull a face at him and spit out the toothpaste. “I look like a rabid dog.”

“Especially when you look like a rabid dog.”

“Very cute,” you smile. “Pass me a towel?”

He does just that, never really leaving contact with your body. You wipe your mouth and discard the towel, wrapping your arms around his waist. You watch him as he looks you over, then kisses your nose and pulls you into his chest.

“Just a nose kiss?” you pout. “I’m really disappointed.” 

He pulls back, and takes the flower from his breast pocket. “This is from Saskia, for you.”

“It’s very pretty,” you smile.

“She’s very talented.” He cups your face, kissing you softly. “That’s from me,” he says against your lips.

You hum, not quite opening your eyes as you throw your arms around Aaron’s neck. “More.” You hum as you lean into him and he chuckles against you, kissing the corner of your mouth, but pulls away just as soon as he was there. “Please?” you whine.

He grants your wish with a lip bruising kiss, parting your lips with his tongue as your legs turn to jelly. He holds you up, walking you both to the bed until your knees hit the bed and he lets you fall against the mattress. He looks like he regrets it for a moment, but when you’re not obviously in pain he relaxes.

You reach up, tugging on his shirt to pull him down to you. His eyelids flutter as he falls on top of you, careful not to put weight on your healing wounds as he kisses you, sucking at your bottom lip. 

“I missed this,” you say against his lips and he nods, dropping his face into your neck.

“Are you okay with Saskia using my last name?” he says, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“Are you okay with me using it?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he breathes like you’ve taken all the air out of his lungs.

“Then we’re decided.” You stroke his hair before tugging him up to kiss him once more. “I might step on a few people’s toes, though,” you say between kisses.

“I’m sure you and Haley will figure it out. You always do,” he mutters, sucking at your neck.

“I mean at work,” you breathe, untucking his shirt from his pants. He doesn’t respond for a while, dragging his teeth over your neck. He pulls up as you begin to unbutton his shirt, caressing your cheek. 

“That could be fun,” he says lowly, running a finger down your neck, lower and lower until he’s tracing over your breasts. “It’d mess with Strauss’s head.”

“Please don’t mention Erin Strauss, I really want to get laid.”

“Are you sure?” he says, his eyes mixed between lust and genuine concern. 

“I’m really sure,” you whisper as you tug at his open shirt, pulling him right down on top of you. 

He kisses you like he’s never kissed you before, gathering you up in his arms the best he can, shifting you both so he’s up against the pillows with you in his lap. You pull off your shirt and almost immediately Aaron’s latching onto your breast, dragging his tongue over your nipple as he sucks at it, rolling your other nipple between his fingers.

He manages to do it just right, and elicits a moan from you. He looks proud of himself, and rightly too. He hesitates over the taped squares of bandages that are peppered over your stomach and hips, his eyes doing their little nervous twitch.

“Aar, I’ll tell you if it’s not working,” you say softly, pushing his hair off his face and kissing him. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Okay,” he responds just as soft. Then he hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls down your pants. You lift your hips, helping him pull them off. He kisses down your side, careful to avoid… well, everything. Then over your thighs until he gets to your knee, leaving wet and sloppy kisses over your inner thigh.

He hesitates as he gets to your centre, you can feel his warm breath over you. You smile at him, running your hand over his hair before taking his hand.

“Aar, I’ll tell you, I swear.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

And then he’s licking at you slowly, sucking your flaps into his mouth, never quite reaching your clit. You can imagine that he looks quite smug when your breath hitches, not quite letting you moan but close to it. You squeeze his hand just as his teeth graze over your clit, a moan finally escaping your lips. 

You slam a hand over your mouth to stop the moans getting too loud and waking Saskia. Your orgasm rakes through your body like you haven’t had one in years (okay it had really been months) and for a split moment the world is right. Then there’s a dull thud of pain that you don’t want to address, but you still hold a hand to your bandages, breathing through it.

“Babe?” Aaron asks softly, you hadn’t even realised that he’d come up beside you, pulling you against him. 

“Sorry,” you murmur into him as he cradles your face into his neck.

“Don’t be,” he says comfortingly, stroking your hair. “You’re okay.” He pulls you into his lap, any needs he had completely forgotten, practically balling you into a protective bubble. 

You stay like that for a while, at least until you stop momentarily twitching whenever the pain jabs at you like little electric shocks. 

“Let’s get you in the shower,” he says softly. “Then we can go to bed.”

“What about you?” you ask softly.

“I can take care of myself, Babe.” 

***

You wake because the mattress sags beside you, and what should have been a warm Aaron spot is cold. You force your eyes open, reaching out to rub Aaron’s back when you realise he’s hunched on the edge of the mattress, turning his phone over in his hands.

“Case?” you say, voice thick with sleep.

“Garcia,” he responds, sighing. “She had a nightmare and couldn’t get onto anyone.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, discarding his phone to his bedside table. “Do you ever wonder how the kids are going to turn out?”

“The team or Jack and Saskia?” you ask, sitting up.

“Jack and Saskia.” 

You cock your head as he climbs into bed next to you, looking at you in the lamplight. 

“Of course I wonder how, and who, they’ll be when they grow up,” you smile, brushing his cowlick down. “What’re you thinking about, Boss Man?”

“I don’t want them growing up affected by this job like we are. The paperwork and the worrying and the sleepless nights, the nightmares about losing people we love.” He kisses your forehead and you squeeze him, knowing the last was momentarily talking about you. “But… I want them to be strong.”

“Of course you do,” you whisper, kissing his cheek. “But there’s some things we can’t control. And either way, we’re going to love them. Saskia could turn into a seven foot alien with pop out eyes and Jack could turn into a backwards werewolf, and we’d still love them.”

“Backwards werewolf?”

“You only turn human on full moons. Every other time of the year you’re a dog.”

“Is this the painkillers talking?”

“Nah. ‘Lady Lovely Locks’. It was the only show Saskia would fall asleep to when she was a baby.”

“And you brought it back?” Aaron asks curiously.

“Haley and I watched a couple of episodes.” 

He chuckles against your temple, pressing a kiss against it. “And the alien?”

“I’d say that’s the painkillers.” You rub circles over his stomach and kiss his jaw. “Whatever Saskia and Jack decide to do, we’ll be there for them, okay? We can’t protect them from everything, but we can tell them that it’s okay to be themselves. And, look, if they’re twenty and decide the FBI is the career they want, we can kidnap them and make them live in a farm in Texas and never let them leave.”

“Haley would hate that,” Aaron moans.

“Right, maybe a Georgian kidnapping so she can make iced tea.”

“I love you,” Aaron says. “But I meant Haley would hate kidnapping Jack.”

“I’ll talk her into it by the time Jack’s twenty. She’ll see what a success it was with Saskia.” You kiss his jaw again, then push his hair back. “Now it’s time to get some sleep.”

“Yes Ma’am.”


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: let's try on wedding dresses~  
> also me: two. try on two dresses. This is an awful experience even in writing form.

A week passes with no issues other than Saskia gluing her sheet of paper to the dining room table (of which, you both manage to the paper AND the glue off the surface before Aaron gets home). Haley’s given you her blessing for taking Hotchner as a last name, under the pretense that the both of you had always claimed to be sister’s since middle school and this is the closest you’ll ever get to it. 

She also insists you bring the girls to your first dress fitting, even with her reputation as Hotch’s ex-wife. And even when you fight her on it she stands by it, and honestly, you owe her your life. And like a month’s worth of dinners, and babysitting Jack. Although, babysitting Jack has become a regular event now cases have died down and Aaron’s not running around like a headless chicken.

Emily’s had far too much champagne, which is only showing through her very (very) truthful opinions about the dresses. Honestly, it’s nice to be validated whenever you think a dress makes you feel like a sack of potatoes. It’s a little overwhelming when you find a dress that you like and Emily agrees because she starts to cry like she’s raised you her whole life. 

Garcia thinks you look great in everything. She makes ‘awwwww’ and ‘ohhh’ sounds every single time you come out, and honestly, while it’s nice it’s also becoming very, very, overwhelming. You’ve got no baseline for what does and doesn’t look good because Garcia thinks you look incredible.if you just breathe.

JJ’s got sparkling apple juice, as does Haley and Saskia. To start there was an awkward tension in the room, if just because Haley’s Hotch’s ex wife and they all watched that fall apart. But then you walk out in a particularly horrible dress (honestly, you’d chosen it because of how horrible it looked--a silk bodice with lace pierced into it, big feather skirt that just doesn’t work, feathers over the spaghetti strap sleeves) anyway, when you walk out the whole group of them are silent.

Emily doesn’t make a noise--her mouth is stuck open. You can see Garcia trying to find a positive. Saskia’s just shaking her head, looking incredibly ashamed of you. JJ does a little gasp that sounds like she’s being tortured. Haley taps her nails against her flute then says calmly:

“May I revoke my previous permission to marry my ex-husband?”

There’s a shocked silence as their eyes all drag towards Haley. Saskia puts up her hand.

“I agree,” Saskia says.

“You look like someone’s plucked Big Bird and rolled a pastry over his corpse,” JJ breathes.

“Becoming Big Bird would be a better option,” Haley says with no hesitation and the room divulges into giggles and you can finally heave a sigh of relief. 

“No feathers,” Saskia says definitively and she writes it down in her notebook. 

“Do you want to feel it, Saski?” you offer, trying to move the skirt but it kind of just goes up and clunks down. She pulls a face and actively turns her body away from it.

“I want to donate to a bird shelter so the birds can keep their feathers,” she says and once again the girls all laugh.

“If you find a bird shelter you like we can donate to them,” you promise and Haley kisses Saskia’s hair for you. “So no feathers?”

“No feathers,” Saskia confirms. 

The first store has nothing that you want, or particularly like. Unless you want to look like a literal bird. 

The second store, however... It’s far more laid back than the first, and that’s not just because the girls have taken Haley in like one of their own, or that Garcia found a wild life sanctuary that she and Saskia have donated two hundred dollars to. As you’re led into the dressing rooms you can hear Saskia dragging Haley around with a consultant. (And you do have to laugh when Saskia says ‘nope! No feathers!’).

“This one,” you hear Saskia say and then Haley agrees, moments later a consultant comes in and splays a dress before you. She helps you into it, not letting you look in the mirror because it was one of the many rules Saskia gave her.

Judging by the looks you get walking out, you think it genuinely might be the last dress you try. 

“You look like a princess,” Garcia sobs, dabbing at her eyes and you have to roll your eyes to stop yourself from crying. Saskia pulls out a tissue and hands it to her.

“I’d marry you right now,” Emily says, hand over her heart.

“Same,” JJ says. 

When you finally get to the mirror, you understand. The skirt is, well, perfection. The bodice looks like it was made for you, hugging you perfectly, with the cutest lace a-line neck. The lace spirals down the dress, over your skirt in a second see-through skirt. It even has cute sleeves that you can pull off if you wish.

And, yes, it makes you look like a princess.

“You look really pretty, Mom,” Saskia says. Haley’s nodding, hand over her mouth as she tries not to cry but you can see the way her tears glaze her eyes.

“Hales,” you say softly, wishing you could hug her. But honestly, Haley would be a mess the moment you hug her, and you can’t have her mascara all over the dress.

“I said I wasn’t going to cry, because crying is dumb.” She wipes her cheeks and sniffles. “But you look very, very, nice.”

“She looks incredible,” Saskia corrects.

“Yeah, yeah,” Haley says, pulling her in close. 

“So this one’s a yes,” you say, and the consultant smiles at you.

“You might like this,” she says, bunching the skirts and throwing them lightly in the air.

They float for a moment like they’re weightless, then they float down to the ground with an impossible amount of sparkle that you hadn’t noticed before. Saskia actually squeals.

“Please, please, please,” Saskia says and Haley laughs. 

“I believe that’s a yes,” you smile.

“Easiest client I’ve had in my life,” the consultant laughs. 

***

“So, wait, how did you both meet?” Emily asks over lunch, pointing to you and Haley with her fork. 

“Middle school,” Haley answers for you. “You moved in down the street, right?”

“Two streets over,” you correct. “It was late middle school because I’d finally shaken Dad enough to pull me out of that boarding school he made me stay at incase he got deployed.”

“And what did he do not a month after he let you out?”

“Got deployed,” you say, completely monotone. Haley nods and rolls her eyes dramatically. “Dad’s friend, though, his family lived down the street from Haley’s family. Shannon, his wife, wasn’t that much older than us in the grand scheme of things, she’d just moved from this small country town and she was living in DC--alone--with this newborn child and having to deal with me on top of it.” You grimace and Saskia nods like she understands how hard that must have been. “One night while her husband and my dad were deployed Haley’s parents came down with dinner and, boom.”

“That’s pretty much how it went,” Haley agrees. “Except I seem to remember that you didn’t want to talk to me. At all.”

“I didn’t. You were so cool, and like…” you peter off, motioning to her up and down until she blushes. “You were Haley.” You both leave out that you were… as dating as you could be back then. The fact that you didn’t talk to each other all that much because you were head over heels, and she was… well, actually, she had been close to the same. Yet all that is completely encapsulated in that little, tiny, look you both share.

JJ and Garcia laugh, but you have to note Emily’s tiny ‘huh’ as she looks between the two of you.

“A lot of history between you both, then,” Emily says. 

“Oh yeah,” you and Haley agree.

Saskia leans over to you, snatching food off your plate. “History, shmistory,” she mumbles loud enough for everyone to hear. “We have to keep the dress a super secret from dad, he can’t know. Because seeing the dress has to be a surprise.”

“Got it,” JJ says, a massive smile on her face. She loves keeping harmless secrets that end up making people happy--that’s evident with how many surprise parties she’s thrown in the short time you’ve known her. Garcia’s pinky swearing to Saskia, which seems to mean the world to your daughter by the way she’s looking at her.

Haley and your phone dings at the same time and you know exactly who it is.

Making a group text chain with Aaron was both the best and worst thing you’ve ever done. He rarely sends more than a single text which is usually just ‘tea?’ almost always after Haley asks if you can meet her for lunch. When she’s not sending texts about lunch, it’s almost always pictures and short videos of Jack before she emails the full thing to Aaron. 

But lately, especially today, he’s taken to just sending pictures of the kids. Jack dressed up like a pirate (the other day it was a pug), or Saskia when she’d decided she was going to be Martha Jones and started to recite all the bones in her hand (which she’d double checked with Spence were correct). And with Saskia here, that means the image is most certainly of Jack.

And judging by the way Haley snorts before handing you her phone tells you that you’re right. There’s no written text, just a picture of Jack with ice-cream on his nose. And cheeks. And all over his mouth. And in his hair? And there’s an ice-cream face print on the back of the couch in the background.

“He’s staying at yours,” Haley says flatly. “I’m not dealing with that.”

“I will suffer the consequences that come along with Aaron Hotchner,” you sigh dramatically as you hand her phone back to her. “Although I’m not sure how that even happened.”

“Neither,” Haley laughs. 

Saskia leans over, trying to peak at Haley’s phone. She complies with your daughter, showing her the picture that makes Saskia roll her eyes, but she’s smiling too. 

“When’re you back at work?” JJ asks, her eyes flicking to Saskia like she’s unsure if she should be talking about it with her so near. 

“Tuesday,” you say and Saskia’s nodding along with you. She’s very aware of what’s happening, if only because knowing soothes her. “I’m very excited for things to go back to normal.”

“Me too,” Saskia says happily. “I miss going to Grandad’s.”

“You go to Grandad’s every tuesday, Saskia.”

“But it’s no fun. When you’re working he lets me stay up late and eat ice-cream every night.”

“At this rate there might be enough ice-cream on the couch for months,” you say back, booping her nose. You smile as Saskia pulls a ‘gross’ face. “But, yeah, back in the office on Tuesday.”

“When are you back on the field?” Prentiss asks.

“Later.” It’s the most honest answer you can give her. “Much later. But I’ll be available for coffee runs and lunch breaks and bakery runs and yelling at me from the sofa.”

“I’ve missed that,” Garcia admits. “All of it. But especially your sofa. You know they lock your office door when you’re not there?” 

“Yes, Garcia. I do know that.” 

“Incredible,” she says like they’ve wronged her. 

***

Saskia falls asleep in the back of the car with one of Aaron’s sweaters as a pillow against the window, her hands tucked under her chin as she hugs the air to her chest. Haley takes the chance to snap a picture of her as you impatiently tap the steering wheel, wishing the traffic would let up.

“Do you ever regret breaking up?” Haley asks, twirling her phone in her hand.

“With who?” you ask. “Cause I’ve only had 5 relationships in my life, one of them lasted a whole three hours.”

“Me?”

You blow your cheeks out. “Is this your ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’?”

“No,” she says quietly. “I mean do you ever feel like you just settled because everyone else was happy? I mean, my parents would have kicked me out if they found out about us.”

“Yeah.”

“Did we break up because we were scared or?”

“Maybe. But we also broke up because we were teens, and we were confused because both were on the table. I mean, who even liked boys if they liked girls? It was one, or the other.”

“It’s so not,” Haley laughs and you scoff at her in agreement.

“So not.” There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. “I think we ran our time, Hales. And it made our friendship stronger, too. At least I think, unless you’re still seething that I broke up with you on opening night.”

“I absolutely am.” She adds a laugh so that you know she’s joking. “In the end we really were just friends that kissed sometimes in the end. I mean, breaking up changed nothing.”

“Changed nothing? Haley, we didn’t talk for a month. In highschool terms that’s a lifetime.”

“And then we bounced back like it was nothing,” she offers. 

“The joys of being fifteen.” 

“You know, besides Jess, you were the first person I said ‘I love you’ to? I was stingy with those words back then.”

“Was? Honey, we’re still stingy with those words. There’s not enough time in the day to tell the people we care about how much we love them.”

“Where’d you get that from?” Haley teases. Then she seems to remember the trials and tribulations of your last month, reaches over and squeezes your hand. “I guess you’re right.”

You glance at Saskia in the review mirror and hum quietly to keep yourself from thinking about where Saskia would be if you hadn’t pulled through. You know she’d be safe, sure, but… Yeah, your mom was right. You want to see her grow up. Ten years isn’t enough. A thousand years wouldn’t be enough. 

Haley pinches your cheek and you’re brought back to the reality of moving traffic.

“I love you,” Haley tells you.

“I love you too,” you smile back.

“Me three,” Saskia says from the back seat. “Are we home yet?”

“No, Sweetie. Not yet,” you smile into the revision mirror. She groans and falls back against Aaron’s sweater, eyes dead as she looks out the window.

“Wait, who was your three hour relationship?” Haley asks, flicking your shoulder.

“Hannah, that senior? She invited me to Homecoming and then told everyone we were together and we made out in the locker room and then I broke up with her.”

“Heartless. Absolutely heartless,” Haley says in mock shock.

“She was a horrible kisser, there was no rectifying that.”

“Ouch. You were a very judgmental teen.”

You hit Haley playfully with the back of your hand. "That's how I got so far in life, can't work for the FBI if you're a ball of sunshine and rainbows."

"Penelope says otherwise."

"Penelope Garcia," you say, tapping your finger against the steering wheel like it's a magic wand, "is an exception to the rule."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~maybe two chapters today? idk.~


	46. Chapter 46

You’re barely in the office for ten minutes when there’s a soft knock on your door.

“Uh huh?” you say, silently inviting them in. You half expect Garcia, or Spence, or Morgan (he’s texted you multiple times that he’s going to drop in), but instead you’re greeted by someone you’ve never seen before.

He’s a little taller than Hotch, with all the muscles of Morgan and a beard that could rival any hippie’s. His FBI badge is clipped onto an old trenchcoat, riddled in bullet holes that have been patched up with awful sewing, but you couldn’t do any better than whatever he’s done.

“Heard you were the one who wrote up the psych evals for Rep’s team,” he says in a strong Yorkshire accent. Your mouth involuntarily falls into a small ‘o’, realising he must be the rope in from England. Good team leader, legendary sharpshooter if the training course you did with him was anything to go by.

“That’s me,” you say, like you didn’t fail the entire team.

“Got a question for ya.” He steps into your office, taking the entire room in with one look. “Which of the bastard’s can I cut loose?”

“Um.” You cock your head at him curiously. “With the psych evals they all took, all of them. But I can’t advise who you can and can’t fire, I’m just the person people talk to.” You point at your name plate on the door, and while you desperately wish to sit you feel like that would be a mistake around this guy.

“Alright, easier question, who should I keep? I don’t want to build a fucking team from the ground up, who’s gonna come out of this okay?” His eyes fall on a photograph Garcia’s put up on the wall of her, Spencer and JJ. “Ah, canaries,” he says. 

“Canaries?”

“Who should I keep?” He drops onto your sofa, his arms over the back. He taps his fingers in a rhythm you can’t quite place. 

You perch yourself on the edge of your desk. “Well, first off, I’m Agent y/l/n.”

“Billy,” he says and before you can frown--because that’s not his name, you know that much--he continues. “Agent Benjamin Shakespeare. Shakespeare’s too long to say in a shootout, Shakespeare, William, Billy.”

“Ah. Understood.” You push your hair behind your shoulders. “Well, Billy, I’d recommend Alannah Reinhold, she’s a good agent. Young, sure, but she’ll pull through after seeing her therapist.” He hums, pulling out a small notebook from his breast pocket and writes down her name. “And Matt de Silva. He’s got a good couple of cases under his belt.”

“Why’d he fail his psych eval?” Billy says as his pen scratches at the paper. You say nothing, because you can’t say anything. “Was it retribution?”

“Do you need a psych eval, Billy?”

He scratches at his beard. “Nope. Just wanna know what I’m getting myself into.”

“You can ask Chief Strauss for a copy of their psych evals.”

“And that’ll be covered in black marker.”

“Yes.”

He sighs from somewhere deep in his gut. “But they’re good agents?” 

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” he says, brushes off his notebook and puts it back in his pocket. “Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome?”

He stands, hesitates for a moment, then puts a file on your desk. “I understand that you have a close connection to the White Lily Murders.”

“I closed the case, yes.”

“So then you know he’s no longer in prison.” (you nod) “And that he only committed two of the seventeen murders.” (this time you hesitate to nod). “I know you know this, I was on Garza’s clean up team, I also know your best friend hit him with her car. And you lied about it.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“No.” He taps the cast file. You open it, finding his report of how he shot Felix without legal permission. “I’m giving you a file to blackmail me with.”

“Why?”

“I’m about to ask your permission for something, and if you don’t give it I’ll drop it.” He closes the door, pulls the blinds shut. “I can arrest the man who killed the first two. It won’t hurt whatever ground work you’ve already done, but I know he protects you.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because you just fucking confirmed it.” (You give him that). 

“What happens to all the people he protects?”

“They continue their lives none-the-wiser. Would you know the difference?”

“Maybe if a serial killer turns up at my doorstep and tries to kill me and my daughter again,” you offer, crossing your arms.

“And your husband, and your best friend, your step son,” he says, which kind of takes you off guard. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard someone say it out loud. “They’re not going hurt them. It’s not like they’re just hanging out at the fucking corner store. You’re safer without them ‘protecting you’.”

“Have you got proof of that?”

He pulls out his wallet and flashes an old, worn, wedding picture. The way the younger version of Billy is looking at her is like she’s his whole world. A completely different man than the one who’s in your office. Suddenly you understand his ‘canary’ comment. The people who remind you when you’ve gone too far, they tell you if you’re too far in the dark place. When the canary stops singing, it’s time to pull back.

“When did she die?” you ask softly.

“1996.”

You know exactly who she is. “Elena. She was his first.” You look up at him. “And your canary.”

“Yes.”

There’s a knock at your door, and it opens before you can answer. Aaron and Billy hold each other’s gazes for longer than they should. Then Aaron brandishes a file. 

“Dave needs our help.”

“Give me five?” you say. Billy shakes his head, then drops a business card on your desk and collects his things.

“Nah, you’ve got work to do. Think about it. Hotchner,” he nods as a greeting and farewell, sliding through the door.

“Shakespeare,” Hotch says just as dryly. “How’s your son?” this, however, is asked lighter.

“Better. Thanks.” and then Billy’s gone. 

“Are you okay?” Aaron asks as you gather stuff from your desk, pushing the file Billy gave you into the bottom of your drawer.

“Yeah,” you smile, kissing his cheek. “Let’s go help Dave?” And Aaron nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~i might have made a web of reformed serial killers protecting people, but i love Billy more than life itself even though i made him up and he's going to be FUN~


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~some actual plot development below~

It's way later than you should both be in the office, but Saskia's gone to dinner with your dad so you've both stayed for paperwork. 

Paperwork that now has you pouting while you beg Aaron to go home. He pulls you into his lap when your pouting gets too much, reaching around you to continue his paperwork. At that point, there’s nothing more you can do than be an asshole, fiddling with stuff on his desk until he pulls his chair back, turning you in his lap like you’re a freaking child so you’re chest to chest then tucks his chair back in.

"Can I have the keys and go home then?" You whine as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"What did Shakespeare want?" Aaron asks and the scratching of his pen comes to a halt. 

"He's taking over Rep's team." A long pause and then you're pulling back so you can look at Aaron, dropping your voice like the walls have ears. "Aar, I don't know what I've gotten myself into, at all, and I feel like I've fucked up big time. I shouldn't have made a deal with a serial killer." 

"I could have told you that," he says softly, cupping your cheek. "What's brought this on?" 

"Promise not to have your moral compass spinning?" (He bites the inside of his cheeks, you can tell by the tiny little hollows in his cheeks, and nods). "Shakespeare shot Felix. He gave me a confessional file as blackmail material then asked my permission to arrest the guy who killed his wife.” You scoff because, honestly, it’s appalling that he feels that he has to ask. “He shouldn’t have to ask, he should just be allowed to, it’s literally the law, Aar.” (he just nods, not saying anything, just looking at you as you process the information). “I should have arrested him. Again. When I knew he was back, for good, I mean.”

“I have a finger on my moral compass, trying to keep it from causing a hurricane,” Aaron says softly, stroking your cheek. “What’s keeping you from saying yes?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” he says as he shuffles in his chair, angling his knees so you slide further into his lap, hooking his hands behind your back. “You’re scared of choosing either way because one of them puts Saskia in danger, and you don’t know which one.”

You nod, your face contorted in an effort to stop from diving into stress tears. 

“Did you ever meet Shakespeare’s son?” (you shake your head). “Good kid. He’s, what, 19 this year? Rob. His name’s Rob.” Aaron looks passed you like he’s trying to remember something, you suppose it was Shakespeare’s son’s name. “He got kidnapped a couple of years after Elena’s death, Gideon worked the case in his freetime like we get any of that.”

“Shakespeare’s the literal embodiment of England, and his kid got kidnapped close enough for Gideon to work the case?”

“They were visiting Elena.” Aaron methodically taps his fingers against your lower back. “Rob’s permanently on oxygen tanks since then, his lungs are… fucked, I think were the exact words he told Gideon.” 

“And what does that have to do with me choosing?” you whisper, because honestly turning the conversation back to you is the most selfish thing you can possibly do. 

“Shakespeare would never, ever, do anything that puts a child in danger. He almost lost Rob, he knows how that feels.”

“Why do you know so much about Shakespeare? I did one tactical training course with him and I know nada.”

“Once Gideon obsesses about something, you know everything. I could tell you a thousand facts about birds.” He closes his eyes like he’s recentering himself. “Babe,” he says quietly, squeezing you. “I know whatever choice you make rests on your shoulders, but you will make the right one. And if--” He pauses here, squeezing your jaw lightly. “If,” he repeats, “it puts Saskia in danger I, and the team, will do everything in our power to keep her safe. And she will be safe.”

“I know,” you respond just as quietly and he pulls you into his arms.

“I did tell you I didn’t like you making deals with serial killers,” he says into your hair. 

“Mhmm.” You groan, poking his stomach far from forcefully. “Learn from my mistakes.”

“Learn from your own mistakes,” he says back. 

Eventually Aaron loosens his arm enough for you to lean down and pick Billy’s business card out of your bag. Aaron rolls his eyes as he stops you from slipping right off your back, commenting that you’re looking much better--knowing that you couldn’t have done that before. 

The business card parts between your fingers like the cheap stickers you bought for Saskia. Aaron notices it too, taking it from your hand and peeling it in two. He flips the now open business card to you.

‘The coordinates are a trap.’ It says. Then the longitude and latitude that are on the back of that photograph you were given.

“Coordinates?” Aaron asks as he pulls an SD card from the sticky bit. He turns it over in his hand before shoving it into his computer.

“AARON!” you screech, smacking his hand but he’s already put it into his computer and whatever malicious content could have been on it is already in his computer. “What the fuck, Aar?”

“Shakespeare wouldn’t send anything malicious. He told me about the SD card when I dropped into work while you were at the hospital,” he says. “He was just starting out downstairs, I was bored, thought I’d reintroduce myself.”

“Who the fuck are you and what’ve you done with my husband?” 

The way Aaron’s body stutters takes you by surprise, his thighs tensing, then he shakes his head at you. 

“He won’t stay for long, I think his wife wants him to go home,” Aaron says.

Whatever moment you both could have had is lost, because a video boots up on Aaron’s computer. A video that had you watching someone have their throat cut in a small alley by a man you recognise, even in the shadows. White Lily. Aaron blinks at it, rewinds, watches again.

“Who is that?” Aaron asks, frowning.

“White Lily,” you say quietly, transfixed on the video. 

“The person he kills,” Aaron corrects.

“I don’t know,” you say before turning away from the video, and Aaron finishes watching it through to the end. 

You watch the video in the glass of a photograph of Jack, until you feel guilty that he’s seeing it even in photo form and put the frame face down on the shelf. Aaron watches it through to the end, you can hear a little work-based hum as you turn back to the laptop to see the ID of an FBI agent. A photograph of him and his daughter, coordinates written on the back.

“Shit,” you say softly. 

Aaron buries his face into your shoulder. “Didn’t think I’d say this, but thank God you got stabbed.” 

“Thank God I got stabbed,” you repeat, stroking the back of Aaron’s head. You grab your phone, typing out Billy’s phone number to text him.

“What’re you going to text that won’t have you getting in trouble with the bureau?” Aaron asks, which is a valid question.

New Contact: Billy Shakespeare (FBI)  
Hi! This is SSA y/l/n’s number. I thought you could keep me updated with the case and your new agents. 

You send it, then nuzzle Aaron’s cheek to get his attention.

“Do you mind if I help out taking this guy down?” you whisper, hoping he’ll say no.

“Yes,” he says simply. “I do. I don’t want you going out there, not after watching that, anymore than you’d want me going out after a guy with a vendetta for feds.”

“Okay,” you say, trying to keep the disappointment off your face. Because he’s right, and you asked, and you’re not about to go behind his back even though you’re, honestly, itching to get back to solving things other than BAU cases.

“Hey,” he says softly, guiding your face to his. “But I don’t mind if you control anything from here, though. Just don’t go out there.” He points at the laptop screen that’s now blank. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” he says, kissing you softly. 

Text to: Billy Shakespeare (FBI)  
If you need any assistance with how to coordinate your new team, let me know. I can help from the office.

You show the text to Aaron for approval, and when he nods you send it. Almost immediately you get a reply.

Text from: Billy Shakespeare (FBI)  
I appreciate it. I’ll get onto you about coordination later in the week.

“Can we go home now?” you ask, batting your eyelashes dramatically. 

“I still have paperwork,” he says, but it’s only half hearted because he’s packing up around you.

***

Saskia takes forever to go to sleep. She doesn’t stop talking the whole way home, she makes friends with the lady at the top of the staircase back to the apartment, she tells Aaron all about school and then does it again. 

When Saskia finally yawns you scoop up the opportunity to funnel her towards bed, tucking her in as tight as you can and kissing her forehead.

“Night Mom,” she says as you switch off the light. 

“Night Saski,” you respond, pulling the door shut. 

Aaron hands you a plastic folder as you come out into the lounge room.

“What’s this?” you ask, taking it from him. 

“Plans for if Shakespeare’s arrest goes south. Safe houses, WITSEC, phone numbers.”

Your heart swells with how thoughtful the gesture is and you hug it to your chest. “Thank-you.”

“You’re not going to need them,” Aaron says, cupping your cheek. 

“Makes me feel better, though,” you respond before leaving Aaron and putting it into your briefcase. Aaron pulls off his tie, throwing it over the back of the couch. Then he collapses onto the plush cushions, rubbing his temples. 

You don’t say anything as you drop into the couch beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. He sighs, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. 

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” he asks, shifting himself so he can cradle you against him. “Or should I put some coffee on and grab you something to read?”

“I’m okay,” you say as you wrap your arms around him. 

He nods, kissing your hair. He turns on the TV, letting it be background noise as you both lie there, you cradled against Aaron’s chest listening to his heartbeat, Aaron stroking your back methodically. 

You’re not entirely sure when you drift off, but you wake with Aaron trying to get out from underneath you without waking you (failed attempt). 

“Hey,” he says sheepishly, half off the couch, half pinned under you.

“You should have woken me,” you say, sitting up and climbing off him. 

He blunders blindly to your room, and for a man who can respond to calls and cases on five minutes sleep he’s remarkably bad at waking himself up. He gets into his pyjamas (with effort, you have to note, because he switches his shirt around five times before he gets it on the right way) then clunks himself down onto the bed without pulling back the covers. You smile at him, pushing his hair back, and when he doesn’t stir you don’t have the heart to wake him so you grab a blanket out his wardrobe and drape it over him.

You’re ready to go to bed too when Saskia wakes with a yelp. You can hear her get out of bed, hesitating in her bedroom whether or not to come out and wake you. So you change into your PJ’s and prop your bedroom door open, finding Saskia hugging Haley’s massive bear to her chest.

“Hey,” you say quietly.

“I can’t sleep,” she says and she tries not to look at you, but you can see that her cheeks are wet with tears. 

You give her a tight smile, wiping her cheeks with your thumbs and kissing her forehead. “Bad dreams?” 

She nods, sniffling, and you pull her into your chest.

“Do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?” You don’t need Saskia to nod this time, you just guide her back to her bed, tucking her in. You sit on the floor, back against the wall.

She hangs her hand off the bed and you hold it, caressing her hand with your thumb until the death grip she has on your hand loosens. She trembles occasionally while she sleeps and you don’t quite have the heart to leave, not with her like this, so you climb into bed with her, wrapping her up in your arms. 

She mumbles as she turns into you, pressing herself close into you. 

In the morning you wake to a reasonably quiet house. It has that eerie feeling to it that’s not quite right, and your suspicions are confirmed when your eyes fall onto Saskia’s bedside table, a note from Aaron propped up on it.

‘Had to go to work. Budget meetings. Love you both. Aaron.’ He’s placed your phone at the bottom of the page to keep it up right. 

Saskia’s asleep on your arm, which is completely numb. But it’s fine, really, because at least she’s slept. It’s a rush to get her to school on time, if only because you both sleep in. Saskia makes a slapdash breakfast, which is just margarine on two pieces of bread, and then you’re out the door. And you totally lie to her school when you have to fill out a late form for Saskia because anything is better than writing ‘overslept’.

But, other than that, everything’s as normal as they can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I want this part of the story to end after Haley's death, but i also want to prolong that for AS LONG as possible~~


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~chapter closes with some NSFW stooooof.~

“Coffee or tea?” Billy asks from behind you, tapping his foot when the line doesn’t move any quicker. 

“Both,” you say. “Not at the same time. One’s for Aaron.”

Billy hums like he understands. “Lost a bet with Reinhold, I’m on coffee duties for the rest of the financial year.”

You shake your head because of how specific that is. “So the team’s going well, then?” 

“Brilliant,” he smiles (actually, it’s closer to a grimace) before you step up to the counter and order your drinks, pay, step out the way, and Billy does the same. 

You both stand in silence for a while before Billy bounces on the balls of his feet. 

“I know you and Hotch were clear that you didn’t want any involvement outside of what you can offer inside the office,” Billy says. “But it’s done.” 

Your stomach drops with some sort of dread that’s mixed with relief. You’ve known since Dave went on annual leave that Billy’s had the opportunity to take down White Lily. Around the clock surveillance on Saskia when she’s not home, partial surveillance on Haley and Jack (and by partial, you just mean you didn’t tell her anything other than ‘there’ll be some officers around, don’t worry about it’). 

“How long?” you ask.

“Six days,” he returns. Then he takes out a small tissue paper package and holds it out to you. “I told you nothing would happen. These were gifted to me by a very terrifying woman. She said it would lead you home.”

“Can I open it?” you ask and he shrugs. You pull the tissue paper back, peeking inside to see two red butterfly earrings. You frown, because they’re almost identical to the one’s you’d gifted to your mother. Her tether. 

“They’re the same ones,” Billy says. “Your mum, right? Elena’s grandmother worked with her. I saw your files, I might have dug into your background.” He massages his jaw, opening it and you listen as it clicks. “Which I learnt is not the best course of action with a tech analyst like yours, and a boss who was evidently none-too-impressed.”

“They gave you hell?” you ask. 

“Your tech analyst has a mean slap to her,” he says, not looking at you. 

“Garcia slapped you? A slap doesn’t usually have someone massaging their jaw,” you respond, looking him up and down.

“I sparred with Agent Hotchner in the gym. He’s got a fuckin’ mean right hook.”

You smirk, knowing Garcia definitely told Aaron. And sparring with Aaron’s a bad idea (if you don’t want to be challenged) on a good day, let alone since you were in hospital. Morgan’s mentioned that it’s a bit of a nightmare in recent days. 

You dash forward to pick your order up when your name is called, then nod to Billy by way of goodbye. He nods like he’s got no idea who you are. It occurs to you that it’s the most civil conversation you’ve ever had with Billy.

You cradle Aaron’s tea close to your chest as you dial Aaron’s number, fully intending to ask him if he wants you to bring his tea up to his office, while pushing your office door open.

“Hey,” Aaron says from your couch, making you jump. “I’m hiding from the team.”

“Why?” you ask, dropping your phone onto your desk and handing Aaron’s tea to him. 

“Reid’s found a new fixation, Dave’s still on Annual Leave, Prentiss is… I don’t know, but she keeps coming into my office to ask something that’ll get her money from Morgan.” 

“Tough life,” you smile, collapsing into your chair and pulling out paperwork. “I heard you gave Billy a mean right hook.”

“He didn’t block it,” he grumbles.

“That’s very sweet, but no hitting people. You’re as bad as Saskia.” 

“Yes Ma’am,” he says and it could have been condescending but he’s being deadly serious. “Come do paperwork with me.” He swings his legs to the front of the couch, patting the cushion beside him. 

You gather your files into your arms and join him, tucking your legs under yourself.

“You’re looking lighter,” he says quietly after what must be hours of silence. “Is it done?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, smiling as you lean into him. “Six days ago.”

“Nothing to worry about.” Aaron kisses your temple, lingering there. “Completely separate question.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you’ll ever get back into field work?”

You frown, putting your paperwork on the floor and turning to face Aaron. “I’m coming back to the field,” you say. “I know you’re nervous about it, but what happened before doesn’t change anything. Getting stabbed was a fluke, it’s not going to happen every time I go out on the field.”

“Yeah,” he says, not looking at you. 

“I’m okay, Aar,” you whisper, taking his face in your hands. “You know that I’m okay, you’ve been with me the whole time. They’ve cleared me for field work, you know that, I’ve redone all the courses.”

‘Yeah,” he repeats.

“Is it going to make you feel better if I kick your ass at the firing range after work?” 

The little, hurt, look on his face melts away and he scoffs. “You? Kick my ass?   
I think all this time off has made you a tad delusional.”

“Me? Delusional? Honey, toughen up. You’re just sore because you know I’ll kick your ass.”

“You are on,” Aaron laughs. And, honestly, thank goodness.

***

The firing range is full of serious Agents, trying to keep their aim good. They’re not laughing, they’re not smiling, they’re shooting the shit out of targets like the target will kill their family. Some of them are trying to teach younger agents, without much avail, you and Aaron have been listening to ‘STANCE’ and ‘relax, breathe, follow through’ for what feels like hours. 

You and Aaron are in the furthest stall, taking it far more serious than you should. 

Aaron’s got all his shots straight to the chest, and honestly you’re just showing off when you riddle the target’s head with holes. You both reload, Aaron eyeing off the target.

“Where’s your follow through?” he asks like you haven’t just showed him up. 

“She’s there, she’s just more efficient than yours,” you tease, stepping back so he can shoot. 

He gets cocky for a moment, almost missing the target. He huffs as he puts his gun down and you rub his shoulder condescendingly.

“Better luck next time,” you say against his neck, dropping a light kiss to it. He glares at you, eyebrows knitting together. 

“Who taught you to shoot?” he asks, maybe a little impressed with you.

“Agent Fornell,” you say as you line your gun up. “Quick, efficient, out the way as quick as possible.” You shoot once, twice, three times, all straight to the centre of the head again. “Ensure they’re dead. And what, your S.W.A.T. ass has ‘front sight, trigger press, follow through’?”

“Do you know how to shoot anything other than the head?” 

“I can shoot you in the ass,” you respond. “Where do you want the bullet?”

He waits until you place your gun down before he presses up against your back, hands on your hips. 

“Hostage, heads blocked by them. You can’t shoot that without shooting the hostage. Incapacitate your Unsub, don’t kill them, don’t shoot the hostage.” 

“Yes sir,” you smile to yourself as he steps back. One shot to the shoulder. Aaron tells you that the Unsub’s still going. Second shot to the arm. Unsub’s switched the hostage's side. Third shot straight through the second shoulder. 

“Mhmm, or,” Aaron says as you step out the way. He does it almost the same, only ending with a shot to the groin. 

“He’s not having children any time soon,” you grimace and Aaron nods, chuckling mostly to himself, even if you notice the small hesitation. “Teach me how S.W.A.T. does it,” you say, resting a hand on his back.

He glares at you, like you’re treating him as inferior, then he’s switching you both around so he’s pressed chest to back. He runs his hands along your arms (not the way S.W.A.T. does it, you’re sure) lifting them up.

“Front sight,” he says against the skin of your shoulder. “Focus on the sight, not the target.” He moves your earmufflers out the way. “Loosen your stance, relax.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath and letting yourself lean against him. He nods into your neck, kissing the soft skin. “One controlled, gentle squeeze of the trigger, and follow through. Singular shot to the chest.”

He steps back and you have to swallow the whine as his body heat leaves you. You do as he’s advised you, and honestly it’s far better than how Fornell taught you. 

“Nice,” you say, lowering your gun.

“It’s alright,” he teases. “You could work on your stance.” 

“I could. Or we could go home,” you offer. “And you could show me how to fix my stance. Saskia’s at a friend’s house for the night.”

“Sounds good to me.”

***

“Shoulders,” Aaron says, pushing them back with two fingers. “Good.”

He’s got you standing up against the wall, bare back flush against the cold plaster. You don’t mind though, because he’s been mostly pressed against you, kissing at your neck, shoulders, chest. You arch up into him, Aaron tutting at you but he’s hooking his arm behind your back and capturing you in a thousand kisses before pushing you back against the wall.

“Keep it there,” he says as he drops to his knees, kissing your inner thighs as he nudges his shoulders between them. It’s a desperate fight not to watch him, not to drop your head and risk breaking the stance he’s made you hold for hours. 

“Aar,” you moan as he presses one, firm, long lick over your underwear.

“Stay,” he orders, running his palms lovingly over your scars, finger tips following in a light and playful dance. He pulls your underwear down, licking at you. He works at you until you’re fighting to stay upright. 

He sucks at your clit until your hand is tightening in his hair, and he’s holding you up with a tight grip to your hips. When you come you don’t have the energy to warn him, but he takes it in his stride. When you’re back, Aaron’s stroking his hands against your hips. 

“Look at that,” he says softly, tugging you down to him. “No pain?” he asks, kissing your forehead. 

“No pain,” you confirm. “I would like to be fucked senseless now, pretty please.”

“I can do that,” Aaron says, picking you up and taking you to the bedroom.

He does just that, until you’re no longer able to walk properly, and Aaron has to hold you up in the shower. He finds you a pair of pj’s and pulls them on you, before tucking you even when you say you can do it yourself. He tucks himself in close, face to the back of your neck.

“I love you,” he says as he yawns and you take his hand in yours as you bury your face into the pillow.

“I love you too, Aar.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jumps to Demonology*

Strauss owns your ass, you swear. 

Ten minutes of paperwork has become hours of paperwork, migrating to Aaron’s office because it’s easier to confer with him face to face than it is to pick up the phone and dial him as he’s been doing all day. It’s also the only time you’ve both eaten, picking at a curry that Reid brought up for you. Which is kind of him, because it’s raining hard and there’s no way you’d want to be running around in this rain.

Aaron looks like the paperwork is going to kill him. He’s pulling his forehead taught with his fingers as he reads over, pen dancing between his fingers. Every now and then he stops, grabbing his fork, and jabbing at the dinner you share. 

“We’ve got Jack this weekend,” Aaron says as he closes the file he was working on and opens the next one.

“Saskia’s got Emi over on Friday night, so it’s a full house.” 

Aaron huffs and shakes his head. “Wedding stuff to confirm, too.” 

“Can’t we just tell everyone we eloped and move on?” you return, flipping a file and pushing it away from you before picking up the next. 

“Can you look at this?” he asks, giving you a paper from the file. “Telling everyone we eloped wouldn’t be a lie.”

“It would make everything so much easier,” you say, flattening the paper on the desk.

“And could you face Haley if you never followed through?”

“No,” you whine, reading over the file and handing it back to him. “Looks good, you spelt the leading detective’s name wrong on the second line, though.”

“Thanks.” You both sit in silence, pens scratching at the papers. “Is Emi still a vegetarian?”

“Probably.”

“Cool,” he says like he’s thinking through what you can eat, probably working through all the meals Garcia makes. A fresh sheet of rain pounds against the glass, sending a cold chill through Hotch’s office. 

He grimaces, leaning his ear into his shoulder as his face contorts into something that looks in pain.

“You okay?” you ask barely higher than a whisper, placing your pen down.

He groans and you think it’s supposed to be a ‘I’m fine’ hum. “My ear,” he says sheepishly at last.

“How often does it play up?” you ask, standing and sitting on the edge of his desk, prying his head off his shoulder. He grimaces in response, but loosens slightly as you run a thumb lightly down the side of his face. 

“Sometimes.”

“Aar,” you chastise. “You should see a doctor.”

“It’s fine I can still hear out of it.’ 

You swat his shoulder lightly. “Ears don’t just give you pain for no good reason.”

He glares at you as you press a kiss to his jaw. 

“I’m not booking a doctor’s appointment for a pain in my ear,” he grumbles at you. 

“You, Aaron Hotchner, are a child. You’ll regret it if it gets worse.” 

“It’s going to get worse if you don’t stop nagging right in my ear.”

You flick his nose lightly like you’re telling off a dog. He smiles weakly at you, patting your leg affectionately.

“Wait, ‘still’ hear out of it? Are there times you can’t?”

“Yeah but it’s fine,” he says dismissively. 

“Sweetie, that’s not ‘fine’ either. You can’t just let that manifest until it gets worse and you keel over and die on me. Then I’ll just have to move in with Haley and we’ll curse you for leaving as our way of keeping your memory alive.”

Aaron glares at you. “Don’t you do that anyway?”

“Oh, Haley and I always curse you out when you’re not there,” you tease.

“I meant manifesting.”

“Maybe,” you say innocently, and expect him to make a face at you but he’s not looking at you anymore, instead he’s looking at the door. You turn, dropping your hand to his shoulder.

Emily’s standing there, looking worse for wear. Her hair’s curled from the rain, and she’s drenched to the bone. If she didn’t look so downcast you might have made a joke about the rain outside. But she just oozes sadness, which you don’t think Emily’s ever oozed before.

“What’s wrong?” you and Aaron ask in tandem, which usually would have made Emily at least smirk, but she barely even reacts.

“I just found out.” She pauses here, swallowing, and you watch as the tears threaten to fall. “An old friend of mine died.”

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says and you squeeze his shoulder. “Do you need to take some time?”

Emily shakes her head like the idea is abhorrent to her. “There’s a chance that he might have been murdered. And there might be a second case.” The way that she looks at you and Aaron makes you want to bundle her up in a hug.

“What do you need?” Aaron asks when you say nothing.

“Just some leeway to check it out.”

“Of course,” Aaron says as you stand from his desk. “Anything.”

“Thank-you.”

“Emily, if you want to take a few days and let us look into it,” Aaron says, pointing between you and him like he doesn’t fully intend to involve the team.

“Matthew was… incredibly messed up and I hadn’t seen him in a long time, but he was important to me,” Emily says, her voice cracking.

“Let us help, Emily,” you say, rubbing your arms. “And not just us, the team. It’s going to be hard, but it’ll be better with help. And the team are the best, you don’t have to do this alone.”

“Yeah, thank-you.”

“Do you want somewhere to stay for the night?” you offer and she shakes her head. “Can I give you a hug?”

Her heart break is all over her face as she nods, and immediately you’re rounding the table and taking her in your arms. She shakes slightly, then pulls her arms up to grip your shoulders and sobs silently into your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry this has happened, Em,” you say and Emily just nods. “Come get some food in you, then I’ll let you leave.”

You think she smirks but you can’t tell.

***

Emily got two pieces of dry toast down before she collapsed on your couch, dead asleep. And you’re still sitting there, watching her sleep like she’s Saskia, when Aaron comes home holding Saskia who’s draped herself over him.

You’re kind of surprised Aaron can still hold her, she’s not exactly a light eleven year old. You’re about to make a comment about how she’s staying at your dad’s when Aaron kicks the door closed quietly.

“Can you grab a wet towel?” he whispers, cradling the back of Saskia’s head so she doesn’t smack it on the wall as he turns. 

‘Is she sick?” You’re immediately on your feet, pressing the back of your hand to her forehead. Yes, she definitely is sick. She looks washed out and paler than usual, and she’s burning up more than you’ve ever felt before. Aaron just nods, and if his arms weren’t full you’re sure he’d stroke your cheek.

“She’ll be okay,” he whispers, and you think he’s saying it about both Emily and Saskia.

Aaron spends the night alternating between ten minute naps, reading through Emily’s friend’s files, switching out the towels for colder ones, and telling you that you can sleep, it won’t kill Saskia. Although the last is only half hearted because you know he can’t sleep because he’s worried about her.

“Apples,” Aaron says as he’s pulling his jacket on in the early morning light. “Apples and plain rice, it’ll help.” He kisses your forehead, then Saskia’s, who’s sleeping fitfully on top of her covers. “Don’t you forget to eat.”

“Same to you,” you say.. “Go find the bastard who killed Emily’s friend.”

“I’ll call you before I come home.”

He leaves a lingering hand on Saskia’s hair before he slips out, grabbing Emily and the car keys. It’s going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mom: let us help you on with this case  
> Saskia: no.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~psst Hotch has two wives~

Saskia’s health waivers like a turbulent ocean. When she’s not shivering, she’s too hot, and if she’s not sleeping she’s bouncing off the walls. One trip to the doctors later and it turns out she’s just dehydrated and overheated (how she did that in winter is beyond you, and with snow forecast), and probably hungry (that sounds about right). The doctor just said to let her sleep, put some food and water into her, and if she’s not getting better then you should take her to the hospital. At least they assured you she wasn’t contagious.

So between Saskia’s ability to only sleep for twenty-five minutes at a time, and you being the worst person in existence as you make her eat dry crackers & water, you’re doing what you can to help work the case from home. 

Morgan calls you just as Saskia falls asleep against you, and you’re quick to pick it up before the ringtone wakes her.

“Speak,” you say, pulling your laptop onto your lap.

“How’s Saskia?” Morgan asks before he can say whatever he called about. 

“She’s good,” you respond, knowing full well that you’d accidentally texted Morgan about Saskia as she was taking a turn. (Curse working the case from your phone).

“Don’t lie to my face,” he responds and he’s sounding a lot chipper than you thought with everything going on with Emily.

“I’m not lying to your face, I can’t see you.”

“Don’t lie to my ears, Woman.”

“She’ll be okay, she just needs to rest. What’re you calling for?”

“What’ve you got on exorcisms and deaths?” 

“Uh, all sent to Garcia?”

“Okay, let me rephrase. Where do you stand on it?” 

There’s only ever been a handful of times Morgan has ever asked for your opinion on a case. Every time it’s been because he’s an outlier on opinions within the team. 

“That the two are totally viable together? You guys are thinking that they’re all happening under the guise of exorcisms? That’s a lot of work, even for a serial killer.” 

“That’s what I thought, other than the exorcism they died from natural causes. How does an unsub even make you die of natural causes? Everyone’s so stuck on the exorcism angle, it’s driving me crazy.” 

You pause, watching Saskia as she sniffles and curls into a ball on the end of the couch.

“Are they stuck on exorcism or demonic possession?”

“Exorcism,” Morgan grunts. “We’re not on believing demonic possession just yet. Hotch’s gotten a complaint about us being involved.”

“Yeah, I know, he texted me.”

“Yeah, sorry man,” Morgan says, evidently not to you. 

“Morgan, where are you?” you ask, opening your emails. 

“Bathroom,” he says sheepishly. “Your office is locked, needed to make sure Prentiss wouldn’t walk in.” 

You roll your eyes. “At this point I should just get a key cut for all of you. And, hey, I know this is hard, but it means a lot to Emily. The police aren’t going to give you jack shit, it’s more religious grounds than anything. But there’s definitely something there.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“Gut feeling,” you say. “And I think you’ve got the same gut feeling.”

“I hate religion.” That’s the closest to a yes you’re going to get from Morgan.

“Go be Emily’s logical side while her emotions are causing havoc,” you say. “She might hate you for now, but she’ll appreciate it in the long run.”

“What if there is a demon jumping bodies?” Morgan says in a way that tells you he hasn’t had the opportunity to bounce that idea with the team.

“Then don’t catch the demon,” you say. “Sanitize, don’t swap spit.”

“Yeah, alright, thanks Mom,” Morgan says flatly. “I hope Saskia gets better.”

“Thanks, Derek.”

He hangs up just as the apartment door inches open. You snap around, one hand protectively on Saskia before you recognise Haley and Jack.

“Heard your mini-me was sick,” Haley whispers. “I brought some chicken soup, and some moral support.”

Jack waves, the ear of his bear in his mouth. 

“I’m afraid Saskia’s not much company right now,” you whisper and Jack shrugs. 

“Can I watch Fireman Sam?” he asks and he’s already beelining towards the cabinet that Aaron keeps all of Jack’s DVD’s in. 

“Of course,” you smile and leave him to set everything up because he’s ‘a big boy now’.

“How’s she doing?” Haley whispers as she kneels by the couch, running the back of her hand over Saskia’s forehead. Jack sits by your feet, handing you the tv and dvd remotes, and he’s completely transfixed on the tv as fireman Sam starts.

“She’s okay,” you say even though that’s not what she asked. 

“How does one even get dehydrated and overheated in this weather,” Haley says like you’ve not wondered the same thing all day. “Are you working a case?” 

“A little.” You offer her a weak smile in apology and she shakes her head. 

“It’s okay. Do you want some soup?”

“Yes please Wonderful,” you smile and Saskia stirs, eyes opening slowly.

“My head hurts,” she whines quietly.

“I’ve got some chicken soup, it’ll be ready in ten minutes. It will make you feel better,” Haley promises. 

“Can we have noodles in it too?” Saskia asks quietly. 

Haley looks at you like ‘I can’t say no, but I don’t have any’.

“Cupboard next to the stove, behind the mugs. They just need to be in cold water for five minutes before putting them in the soup.”

“Thanks,” she says, finding the packet. “Weird spot to put them.”

“They’re hiding from Dad,” Saskia says as she pulls the blanket over her shoulders. 

“Of course,” Haley says like it makes total sense. 

“Do you feel better, Saski?” Jack asks, turning to look at her as she shakes her head. “The weather man says maybe there’ll be snow tonight, do you think you’ll be better then?”

“I hope so,” Saskia whines.

Haley manages to coax Saskia to sit up when the soup’s ready, and she eats it so slowly that you know she actually is sick. Jack slurps his up in record time and uses his fingers to clean the bowl up (not without asking you if he could). Haley sits beside you, Saskia leaning into her side until she’s uncomfortable and goes to the arm of the couch. Haley hands you your phone when it buzzes.

“Sorry,” you grimace as you try to stand around Jack who’s now lying down. “I have to take this.”

Haley gives you a look that you’re sure she perfected while married to Aaron.

“Dave?” you say as you close the bedroom door.

“How do you arrest a man who has diplomatic immunity?” 

You frown, fussing with the bedsheets even though Aaron’s made the bed to precision. “I’m assuming you’ve already talked with the country of origin?”

“Yes, Hotch has made many international calls that haven’t ended well today.”

“I would say go over their head, but I’m not sure who you’re trying to catch.”

“Priest doing an exorcism, Morgan and Prentiss are going after him now.” 

“Then the Vatican,” you say plainly. “That’s over their head. Technically you can’t do an exorcism without bishop’s approval, the Vatican really fought for exorcisms to be regulated. This is probably abhorrent to them.”

“Hotch is going to kill me,” Dave groans but you can hear him going up the stairs to Aaron’s office.

“Don’t give him a choice to, it’s call the Vatican or find two new agents.”

“Okay,” Dave says. “Stay safe.”

Then he hangs up and you’re left shaking your head at your phone. You tiptoe back out to the lounge, although that’s futile because Saskia’s finally dressed in normal clothes and chasing Jack around.

“What did you put in that soup?” you say to Haley, completely impressed. 

“She just needed something normal in her,” Haley says. “She’s a little handful.”

“Yes she is,” you agree. “I’m glad she’s okay.”

Haley pulls you into her, hugging you tightly. “Are you okay? That was a bit of a scare. Aaron was trying desperately to be calm when he called me, but he has that little hitch in his voice when he’s worried about something that doesn’t affect his job.” 

“Fuck yeah I was scared,” you say, maybe just a little too loud for the presence of children.

“Snow!” Jack and Saskia both yell, causing both you and Haley to turn quickly to the window.

Sure enough, the two of you had somehow missed that the pounding rain had come to a halt, replaced with flurrying snow that floats outside the windows, not affected by gravity.

“If you both put your coats on we can go outside,” Haley offers. “Can’t have either of you getting sick.”

When Saskia and Jack come back they’re bundled up like burritos. Haley and you both steal Aaron’s coats, because his are bigger, longer, and he invests in really good jackets. They’re just… comfortable. Haley agrees, judging by the way she shrugs it on even though it swallows her completely, links her arm in yours, then shoves her hands deep into the pockets.

“Gross,” Haley sighs as you’re jogging down the stairs to keep up with the kids. You turn to her, raising an eyebrow as she pulls a hand out of his pocket, covered in crumbs.

“At least he eats on cases?” you offer as Haley brushes her hands off.

“Those biscuits are cursed,” she says and you’re surprised she knows exactly what type of biscuit they are. She catches the look and shakes her head. “It’s those biscuits that come complimentary with hotel rooms. He eats them like a lifeline, you’ve not seen that before?”

“We don’t get complimentary hotel biscuits?”

“I bet you do, does Aaron get into the room first?” Haley says as she opens the door, letting Saskia and Jack into the snow. You nod. “Trust me, he takes them without realising.”

She tilts her head back to the falling snow, a small smile ghosting over her face as the snow melts on her face but grips onto her hair and eyelashes. Jack and Saskia are spinning, trying to see if they can keep the snow off them. 

You take two trips around the block, until Saskia and Jack are almost weighed down by the snow, and Saskia’s exhausted and Jack’s dragging his feet, sometimes stopping to fill his arm with the melting snow on the sidewalk and dropping it back to the ground. 

When you’re back inside, the house is completely overtaken by snow and Aaron will kill you in the morning, but you don’t really care. You have the rest of the chicken (and noodle) soup for dinner with the kids, and then hot chocolate with Aaron’s secret stash of marshmallows. And maybe Haley would have gone home if Jack hadn’t put himself into bed after his bath that was only to warm him up. Saskia goes to bed too, not feverishly either.

You watch too many episodes of FRIENDS before both you and Haley are yawning, and there’s been no messages from Aaron. At some point, you both fall asleep on the couch.

***

Aaron’s called three times, and gotten to your voicemail each time. He opens the door, brushing off the snow that had gathered on his shoulders and in his hair. The first thing he notices is that there’s a strong smell of chicken soup that he’s missed far more than he wishes to admit to himself.

The FRIENDS DVD menu is on repeat, the same 15 seconds of the theme song playing over and over again. His eyes fall to you and Haley, dead asleep on the couch. He can’t help the small smile that spreads over his face. He goes into his room, grabs two spare blankets, and drapes them over the two of you.

He retraces his steps, stopping by Jack’s room and kisses his forehead before watching him sleep, the way he curls up to sleep on his stomach with his knees tucked underneath him. His hands flutter slightly and Aaron blinks away the tears threatening to fall.

Then he checks on Saskia, who’s buried herself in all her toys in her little blanket fort under her loft bed. She’s got a book of constellations that’s fallen from her hands that Aaron picks up, looks it over, then puts it on her bookshelf. He brushes a hand over her forehead, just to check that she’s not burning up. Which she’s not. And he heaves a sigh of relief. 

He showers, changes into his pj’s and climbs into bed, checking his phone one last time.

Text from: Saskia’s favourite Mom

Aaron blinks at his phone and wonders when Saskia got a hold of his phone. There’d been one fateful day when Saskia had changed all his ringtones to the TARDIS landing, which had been a calling for Reid and Garcia much to his horror. He makes a note to get a better passcode.

Text from: Saskia’s favourite Mom  
I know you’re home.

Reply:  
Saskia’s looking better.

Text from: Saskia’s favourite Mom  
We’re cold.

Reply:  
Do you want me to bring you another blanket?

He’s slowly and reluctantly pulling himself out from the covers when he gets the response.

Text from: Saskia’s favourite Mom  
That or we could just come to bed if you’re chill.

He thinks it through reluctantly.

Reply:  
You have to be between me and Haley.

“Thank God,” he hears from Haley then there’s the padding of both your feet down the hallway like you’re teenagers. 

And, yes, you are both cold, he thinks to himself as you slide under the covers then shuffle under them so that Haley can fit too.

“It’s not even that cold in the lounge,” he says judgmentally as he switches off his lamp.

“We took your coats for a walk,” Haley responds, turning off the lamp on her side of the bed. You snuggle into the covers until you start to have body heat return to you.

“And the kids,” you add, which Haley echoes in agreement.

Aaron just huffs, shaking his head, then turns his back to the two of you so he can try to get some sleep.

“How’s Emily?” you whisper into the darkness.

“She’s okay,” he says back. “She’ll be okay.”

“Night,” you say.

“Night,” Haley repeats. You’re not sure what it is that sets you both off but you both divulge into giggles. Honestly you’re expecting Aaron to at least tell you guys to shut up (until you think maybe he’s fallen asleep), which only means that the two of you start talking about the kind of conversations that only happen in the darkness of the morning.

Then, out of nowhere, the stuffed toy that Haley bought you at the hospital comes catapulting down onto both your faces.

“Shut UP,” Aaron groans. “I’ll banish you back to the couch, both of you.”

“Rude,” you tease and Aaron kicks your leg lightly.

“I think we’re on thin ice,” Haley says.

“There’s no ice,” Aaron says flatly. “I just don’t want either of you to wake the kids.”

“There’s a little bit of ice,” you respond. “It’s the shape of the kids.”

“Floating away on a melting river,” Haley adds.

“I swear to God,” Aaron groans. “You’d better get moving because the river won’t wait forever.”

“Aaron Hotchner, did you just make a Narnia reference?” you ask, poking his side.

“In this scenario, I’m Peter, and one of you is Lucy and I’m going to lose your ass in a melting river. I’m going to let the other one freak out while I do nothing but look dumbstruck.”

“Has anyone seen my coat?” Haley chirps in a pretty decent Lucy voice and this time it’s the pillow that comes slamming down on both of you.

“Shut up.”

“How do you even know this?” Haley asks once she’s got the pillow off her face, shoving it between you and her.

“Saskia,” you explain. 

“Ohh, makes sense,” Haley says.

Aaron sits up, and he probably squints at both of you but you can’t see it, then he’s feeling over you to grab his pillow back and shove it between his arm and head.

“Go to sleep.”

“What if we don’t want to?” Haley says.

“Congratulations, Aaron Hotchner, you’re a single father,” he says completely flatly. “Sorry that the gas leak killed Haley Brookes and Y/N Y/L/N.”

This time, the pillow goes missing from under your head and Haley’s hitting Aaron with it.

“Monster,” Haley says.

“At least I’d get to sleep,” Aaron grumbles.

“You really think Jack and Saskia would let you sleep?” you ask and Aaron ribs you.

“Shut up.”

You’re both silent for a while, lulling Aaron into a false sense of security, until Haley says: “we’re so much better than the kids.”

Aaron folds his pillow over his ears and screams into the mattress. 

After that, you let him sleep, if only because you and Haley finally fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~let me repeat: Hotch has two wives~  
> Hotch just out here making jokes he's going to regret.
> 
> ps. the Morgan "don't lie to my face/don't lie to my ears" happened on a phonecall i had the otherday and i can't stop laughing because it was such a reader/morgan thing to happen.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~there's a lot going on in this chapter, but some of it is a blessing~

The morning is a rush and tangle of bodies. Aaron had somehow gotten his arm pinned underneath both you and Haley (how, you have no idea, because he’d fallen asleep curled in a ball), so his plans to get up and move to the couch before the kids woke up were thwarted. You’d all kind of agreed in a sleepy haze that the three of you all in the same bed would confuse the heck out of Jack, and Aaron had said him moving in the morning would make less of a commotion than the two of you ‘blundering blindly’ (Aaron’s words).

Instead, when Jack pushed the door to your room open, Aaron had given up trying to calmly pull his arm out from under both your heads, and just rolled out of the bed, waking both you and Haley in one fowl sweep.

Haley’s half way to saying ‘what the fuck’ when her eyes fall on Jack and she catches herself. Then you’d all been in a rush because you’d all slept in, and honestly the bathroom isn’t big enough for three people (duh). It’s not until you and Aaron are at work that you realise how bad the morning had really been. 

Especially when Hotch walks past Morgan and Morgan frowns at him, watching him go up to his office, then turns to you as you pick some files up from Prentiss’s desk. She’s taking the week off, the least you can do for her is her paperwork.

“What?” you ask, frowning at him.

“Why does Hotch smell like Haley?”

You shrug, dropping into Emily’s chair.

“Nuh, uh, you do know,” Morgan says, perching himself on the edge of the desk. “Are Hotch and Haley friends again?”

“Okay, they were never ‘not friends’,” you say, albeit tellingly, as you hold a singular finger up to Morgan. “They had their disagreements, their marriage being one of them, but they were never ‘not friends’.”

“They were,” Morgan argues as you glare at him. He leans into you, then raises his singular eyebrow. “Why do you smell like Haley? She has this… perfume, Hotch always smelt like it.”

“It’s body spray,” you correct. Up until this morning you’d thought it was perfume too, until Haley had grabbed the body spray out of her car.

“Answer me,” Morgan says, crossing his arms like a child.

“I don’t have to divulge my personal life to you, Derek Morgan.”

“You totally do.” He pulls a face at you, somewhere between cheeky and thoughtful. “I’d say, new and old worlds collided, Hotch needed a release of emotions after yesterday, and everything got hot and steamy.”

“No,” you say, holding up a finger. “Try sick children, chicken noodle soup, snow and a friends marathon.” 

Aaron comes down to the bullpen, handing over some files that need to be filled out. For a moment you think he’s, gratefully, oblivious to Morgan’s hypothetical night, but then in a completely monotone voice he says:

“Don’t listen to her, Morgan. They kept me up all night.” And he winks (actually winks) at you. 

“You had a good time,” you return and Aaron flicks back the paper on his file like you’ve said nothing and meanders back up to his office.

“I don’t know what to believe,” Morgan says, staring at you with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

And, honestly, nothing that you and Aaron has said is wrong, just Morgan’s interpretation is wrong, so you just go back to your paperwork like it’s nothing and Morgan’s left looking dumb struck.

“Hey guys,” Spencer says, dropping his bag at his desk. “Are you with us today?” he asks excitedly. 

“Yes I am,” you respond with the sweetest smile you can while Morgan’s still trying to process.

“Cool!” And then Spencer starts rattling off something about a lecture he went to on the weekend, and you’re not entirely sure what he’s talking about but every now and then you understand something.

***

“Garcia wants you in her batcave,” Morgan says as he walks past you with a fresh cup of coffee. 

You frown, closing your paperwork and finding your way down to the lair.

“Garcia?” you ask, pushing her door open. You’re immediately smacked with a very Garcia hug, squeezing you so tight you think you might implode and explode simultaneously. 

“I’m so, so, sorry,” she says, and then she’s letting you go and handing you a small square box of purple pansies.

“Did you delete something?” you laugh. “Because that’s fine, I’m sure you can restore it. There’s not really anything important on my work computer anyway.”

But Garcia’s looking at you like her world’s ended, her eyes glassy with tears.

“Honey? What’s up?” You’re not entirely sure why something that has upset Garcia makes her buy you flowers, so you guide her towards one of her chairs, placing the flowers on the table before sitting with her. 

“I… I was going through files, just hiding them, y’know, because I’m sure Hotch told you about that time we were hacked.” (You nod, he’s told you about King Fisher). “But I read through your medical file, for a squiz, because I was curious and--” Again, she goes glassy eyed. 

Of course Garcia would have looked through your medical files. 

Which means she knows what only Aaron, Morgan and Haley know. 

It feels a little selfish to be glad Garcia knows, like if you’d really wanted her to know you should have just gone and told her. Instead she got to find out through sticky beaking at a medical report that should have been nothing more than a couple of horrible comments about internal injuries. 

There’s nothing to say so you just reach over and rub her arm.

“I thought you could plant these,” she says, trying to force happiness into her voice. “I don’t know if you’ve done anything, but, I mean, you don’t have to, it’s up to you, I just thought--”

“Thank you,” you say to cut her off from spiralling. “These are gorgeous, Garcia. And I haven’t…” you fall off with a small smile. “I haven’t done anything, I hadn’t thought about it. I really appreciate the thought, Garcia.”

“I haven’t told anyone,” she says quickly. “Just Morgan, and he knows so it doesn’t count. Why does Morgan know before me?” Then she catches herself. “No, no, don’t answer that, that was mean, this is your own thing to tell you didn’t have to tell me. Oh God, does it count? Maybe it does. Maybe I shouldn’t have told Morgan.”

“Hey, Pen, stop. It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, it still… hurts, I guess,” you add like you’ve got no idea what does and doesn’t upset you. “Every now and then something happens and I’m just reminded and that sucks more.” 

Garcia scoots her chair closer to yours, leaning forward and putting on her best listening face. And, honestly, it works.

“One of the mom’s at Saskia’s school had this ‘surprise I’m pregnant’ moment at pick-up and I realised she was where I would have been and that… that sucked. Saskia didn’t ask, thank goodness. Not when I felt crappy or when I kept snapping at her. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d make it home; I was that close to losing it.”

“Gee, I’m sorry.” Garcia says softly. “Y’know, I run a small support group for people who’ve lost someone close to them. You should come.”

“No, it’s okay,” you smile, shaking your head. “I can deal with this.”

“Well,” Garcia says, grabbing her purse and pulling a business card out and handing it to you. “It’s an anonymous group, you wouldn’t have to tell anyone your real name. You don’t have to come, but keep the card in case you change your mind.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” you say, pocketing her business card. 

“I had no idea,” Garcia says, sighing heavily. “Hotch didn’t… does he know?” (You nod). “He never showed, or told us. I don’t think he ever showed us that he was in pain. I mean, there was that time when you were in surgery. I’ve never seen him that upset. Like, he had, emotions?”

“Oh, yeah, he has some of those sometimes,” you smile, leaning back in your chair, hoping to divert the conversation. 

Which Garcia happily obliges, although not quite in the way you had hoped. 

“What’s Hotch like to date?” You frown at her and she continues. “Does he buy you flowers? Spontaneous dates?” She gasps excitedly. “What’s his favourite place to go? We know nothing about him, I swear.”

“He has lots of favourite places,” you say, aiming to avoid the first two questions.

“Favourite place to take Saskia,” Garcia asks like she’s warming you up to something else.

“Washington National Cathedral, or the museum of natural history. Saskia’s taken to drawing everything she can see until it looks right, she never tires of drawing there. Aaron can just bring a book. Jack likes it too, he likes to draw with Saskia.”

“And where does he take you?” Garcia spins around on her chair excitedly like a kid. 

“Believe it or not, planetariums. I think we’ve been to every single one. And sometimes a hike,” you say thoughtfully. “Although we haven’t gone on a hike for a while, getting stabbed and stuff.”

“Does he bring you flowers?” The look on Garcia’s face is so dreamy and wishful you feel bad for crushing it. 

“Only if he does something wrong,” you tell her. “Like missing a date, or skipping out on a weekend with Jack. Although, he did buy me fabric flowers for my office because they ‘can’t die while I’m away on a case’. They’re actually quite nice.”

There’s a soft knock on the door and JJ slips into the room.

“Jayje! Hotch bought fake flowers for Y/L/N’s office,” Garcia says dreamily. 

“Do they look tacky?” JJ asks, discarding her stack of files and making your discussion a small circle. 

“No they don’t,” you assure her.

“That’s really sweet then, I hate when Will sends me flowers and then we have to go on a case. They’re all gross and dead when I get back.”

“Kevin does that sometimes too!” Garcia says like it’s bothersome and for a moment you think you’ve gotten away with not answering all of Garcia’s questions but then-- “Does Hotch ever take you on spontaneous dates? Kevin tends to give me spontaneous romantic nights in.” You’re left with the knowledge that that’s definitely related to sex, which is sounding pretty nice to be spontaneous again. Not kept between whatever hours Saskia’s asleep, begging to high god that she doesn’t wake up.

“I mean, by the time neither of us are at work and Saskia’s not at home, and we haven’t just gotten off a case, there’s not really time for spontaneity. But breakfast dates, those are a thing,” you offer, and the girls look at you like they’ve never thought of that before. 

“Sorry, our Hotch takes you on breakfast dates?” JJ says. “He exists on tea, and that’s it.”

“Powdered pancakes--hold the syrup--before 5am, syrup after 5am,” you correct. “He also loves oatmeal, which is disgusting.”

“I love oatmeal,” JJ defends and you shake your head at her. Her eyes fall to the pansies and she gasps quietly. “Those are gorgeous. What’re they for?”

“Just a pop of colour,” you say quickly before the silence gets too heavy and long. JJ looks impressed and pulls her legs up to sit cross legged on her chair. Garcia breathes heavily, like she’s just dodged a bullet. 

The room settles for a moment, and maybe JJ picks up that something’s wrong, but Garcia’s looking mischievous and that in and of itself tears JJ away from figuring things out. It kind of fills you with dread.

“I’m sure JJ and I both want to know the answer to this but…” the way Garcia looks at JJ has you wondering if you should get up and leave. 

“Oh, yeah,” JJ says excitedly. “What’s Hotch like in bed?” She leans forward, elbows on her knees as she looks at you like you’re about to bestow the best information in the world to her.

You’re surprised at the guttural response that courses through you that’s mostly ‘I don’t want to tell’. Does that make you old? That makes you old. For sure. You’re pretty sure you remember saying that the only people who don’t jump at the opportunity to share sexual escapades with a group of girlfriends are old people. Maybe it was a little ageist, but, hey, it’s running true at the moment.

“Is he all serious?” Garcia is continuing. “I bet he’s all serious.”

“Oh yeah,” JJ agrees. “Although in the few times I’ve seen him out of work he doesn’t really come across as a serious kind of guy.” 

Garcia and JJ are too busy sharing hypotheticals (the one that Garcia has about Hotch being tied up--Classic, did take you by surprise) that you think you might actually get away with not answering their questions. But then Garcia looks at you and you suddenly realise that she’s talked to Morgan and--god--she’s talked to Morgan. She gives you that look and she knows that you know.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you say sweetly, because if you deny it it’s bound to get back to Morgan and that would ruin all the fun.

“Oh, come ON,” Garcia laughs. You shrug, smiling at her. 

There’s two quick knocks on Garcia’s door, followed by Hotch’s simple ‘Garcia’ as he comes in with a file, looking up at the three of you and doing his best ‘fed up’ face. There’s a ghost of a smile over him as he looks at you.

“Can you run these?” he says, handing Garcia the files. “Sorry to break up the party.”

You lean back in your chair, grabbing at the pansies with the tips of your fingers and drawing it towards you until you can pick them up and hold them out to Aaron.

“Pop of colour,” you say with a smile and Aaron frowns at you for a second then it seems to dawn on him and you wonder if Garcia had emailed him before she bought the flowers. 

“They’re very nice,” he says, squeezing your shoulder. “Can I see you for a second?” 

“Mhmm.” You spin on your chair, waving to the girls as you follow Aaron out of the room with your flowers. 

You follow him all the way back to your office, where he pulls the blinds shut and stands there like he’s not sure what to do, hands fidgeting.

“Hey, Aar? What’s up?” 

He gives you this look that’s like his whole world’s collapsed and, yeah, Garcia emailed him. 

“Do you want a hug?” you ask softly and he’s shaking his head but he still wraps you up in his arms, pressing his face into your shoulder. You can’t help the small smile as you remember highschool Aaron, who always said ‘I don’t want a hug, I want to give you a hug’ because it was the best way to divert his emotions. (And, of course, not be smothered with hugs from the two asshole girls who practically lived in the library with him). (It was you and Haley). (duh). You used to hate him for it.

It’s weird that now it’s a little comforting to know not much as changed. 

“Garcia’s email take you for a spin?” you mumble into his shoulder and he nods with a shaky breath. 

“I was going to tell you,” he says like a small confession. “But you left your phone on Prentiss’ desk.” Then he’s breaking the hug and putting on his boss face which, if anything, makes you feel a little bit better.

“They’re nice flowers,” you say as you sit on your desk, watching Aaron try and put himself back together. 

“Yeah. Where do you want to put them?” 

You shrug, because Aaron’s apartment has nowhere to put them unless you put them in a pot and pray to god he doesn’t knock them off the window sill whenever he closes the curtains. 

“Saskia and Jack could choose a pot?” he offers, maybe a little quieter than his usual. “I know they don’t know, but I… uh… I just think it would be nice to know they got to do something.” 

How on Earth you got so lucky to marry such a precious man, you’re unsure, but thank goodness you did.

“There’s a spot on the kitchen window that they’d thrive on,” he adds softly, not quite meeting your eye. 

“That sounds really nice, Aar. I’d really like that.” 

He heaves a sigh that could be relief and kisses your forehead. 

“Y’know,” you start hesitantly, “we can still have another kid. It’ll take some time, maybe time we don’t have, and we’ve got Saskia and Jack, but--” 

“I know,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I know.”

***

You’re pulling your office door closed when Aaron rounds the corner, looking like a man on a mission.

“No case,” you say quickly. “I have to get Saskia from school and dad’s at a publishing meeting so he’s not free until seven.”

“I know,” Aaron says with a small smile. “But a critique from you, and Haley, was that I spend too much time at work. So I’m going to come with you, if that’s okay.”

“Is it okay?” you ask incredulously as you lock your door. “You can’t tell Aaron Hotchner but sometimes we get ice cream and brownies after school, and today is one of those days.”

“I’m sure he can manage,” Aaron says happily, sliding his hand into yours. 

You get to the carpark a little earlier than you should have, and from the groups of parents you can see gathered in front of Saskia’s classroom you’re not all too keen to join them. Aaron chuckles at you when you pull a face and make a little disgusted noise. 

“Is Chelsea there?” he says, eyes dancing over the crowd.

“Yeah,” you say, pointing to the woman who’s dressed like she’s about to go to some royal ball or something. She’s a nightmare, genuinely. She constantly feels the need to comment on your ‘absent parenting’ (Morgan picked Saskia up from school one time when you weren’t so good after the hospital, she didn’t approve), or the fact that Saskia’s hardly ever clean at the end of the day (as if you can control if Saskia wants to play football or not).

“Gross,” Aaron says like he’s ten. “Morgan has a strong dislike directed towards her.”

“I have strong dislike directed towards her,” you respond sourly. “She told me my suit looked like a knock off.”

“It does,” Aaron says completely deadpan until you backhand him and he laughs. “It’s a very nice suit, babe. It did look better on the floor, though.”

True, it did.

“Alright, snob, you buy me a nicer suit then.”

“I will,” he says, accepting the challenge.

“Nice on me and on the floor,” you say, poking his cheek. He blushes a little, which he tries to hide as he turns and tries to capture your finger in his mouth. You manage to get your finger out the way just in time and can’t help giggling.

“Does Chelsea know your fiance is divorced?” Aaron asks and you look at him like he’s stumbled upon gold.

“She does not.” 

“It would be a shame if she found out,” Aaron says distractedly. 

“You’re not telling her,” you say quickly as he pushes the door open, climbing out the car. You follow after him, shoving the keys into your pocket as you try to grab at his suit jacket. 

He stays just out of reach until he stops and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest and kissing your hair.

“I’m not going to tell her,” he says into your hair and squeezes you before you’re joining the group of parents with awful small talk. 

Yes, it’s been cold.

Yes, you saw the snow.

Yes, the snow is still here. 

The kids all come out almost immediately as the bell goes, although you note that Saskia waits by a girl’s table that you’ve not seen before. Aaron notes it too, hand falling to your waist.

“Mom!” Saskia yells excitedly as she comes out to the bags, shoving paper into her bag that’s definitely going to be scrunched and beyond repair by the time you get home. If it ever gets out from her bag. 

“Hi Dad!” she says quickly as she bounces in front of the two of you. “Can we wait a little bit until Lakhi’s dad comes?”

“Sure,” you smile and Saskia jumps, clapping her hands, and runs to her new friend.

“Lakhi, these are my parents,” Saskia says as she drops her bag at your feet, grabbing Lakhi’s hand before they run out into what’s left of the snow, kicking up mud as they go. Neither of you have time to say hi. 

It’s barely even ten minutes before Saskia and Lakhi come running back.

“HI DAD!” Lakhi yells before you’ve even noticed that there’s another person joining the throngs of students and parents. 

“Hey Sparkie, you ready to go?” That’s a British voice you’re not going to forget any time soon.

Shakespeare.

“Dad, this is my new friend Saskia,” Lakhi says. 

“Hi,” Billy says, waving to Saskia.

“Hi,” Aaron says, trying to mask his surprise.

“You guys know each other?” Saskia says excitedly. “Can Lakhi come to brownies and ice-cream then? Everyone can have friends.”

You turn to Billy, opening him up to denial or acceptance. 

“Sure, if that’s okay,” he says, and you nod as Saskia and Lakhi seem to explode with excitement. 

***

“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Aaron says when the three of you are seated, Saskia and Lakhi a couple of booths over. 

Billy shakes his head and shrugs.

“My partner and I adopted her,” Billy tells you both. “It was after a case, her parents were killed.” He looks like saying it is a weight off his shoulders, and you guess it kind of is because it’s impossible to explain that to the other parents at school. It’s hard enough to explain Felix to the parents at school.

“She seems like a good kid,” you smile, passing Aaron his brownies and pushing Billy’s to him.

“I didn’t know she was in Saskia’s class or I would have said something,” Billy says.

Aaron looks almost offended when he cuts into his brownie, turning to you. “Warm brownie, warm fudge, flake, icecream, near work, and you never told me?”

“Every good marriage needs a few secrets,” you say dramatically with a smile.

“Unbelievable,” he says quietly but he’s too caught up eating his brownie to argue with you.

“It’s probably best we didn’t know,” you say to Billy. “They found each other authentically.”

“Yeah,” Billy responds, turning to glance at the girls before actually relaxing. “She’s had a tough time making some friends. Everyone at her old school knew about her parents, you can imagine how that feels.”

“It was hard enough when my mom died,” you say, nodding. “And no one knew what happened, I can’t imagine if everyone knew.”

Billy just nods to himself. “Oh, fuck,” he says, clearly surprised. “How did you find this? This is incredible.”

“I was desperate for a sugar kick when I was trying to curb caffeine. It was like the first place I saw and we’ve gone here ever since. It was a secret, so the two of you are going to have to keep it.”

“Done,” they both say. 

The three of you hang back when brownies are done, the girls elongating their goodbyes for as long as possible.

“If you ever need someone to pick Saskia up,” Billy offers.

“Same with Lakhi,” you respond. 

Aaron grabs the keys out of your pocket, guiding Saskia closer and closer to actually getting into the car. Sure, she was only sick for less than twenty four hours but neither of you are willing to risk her getting sick again. 

“Look,” Billy says, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “If you’re still interested in what your mom did, I’d love if you’d join my partner and I for dinner some time next week. There was a lot of relocation with her job, but there’s still some people around. And Lakhi will be there, don’t be scared to bring Saskia.” 

You nod, smiling at him. “I’ll talk it through with Aaron, but text me the details.”

Billy claps his hands to close the conversation, and then it’s “Sparky, let’s go.” And then Lakhi and Saskia are finally parting and getting into their respective cars and you can finally go home.

Aaron takes your hand when you’re in the car, kissing your knuckles as you pull out and head home.

“I like Lakhi,” Saskia says simply. “She’s cool.”

“I’m glad, Sweets,” you say, smiling at her in the review mirror.

“But, Dad,” Saskia says, leaning forward. “You’re not allowed to hit people. There’s a hands off, feet off rule. I know it was you.”

You try really hard not to laugh, glancing at Aaron. “Oooo, busted,” you try to say with a straight face.

“Mom, do we have to ground Dad?”

“I dunno,” you say, drumming the steering wheel. “Do you think he’s learnt his lesson?”

Saskia squints at Aaron. “I’m not sure. I have something worse than grounding him, though.”

“What’s that?” 

Aaron raises an eyebrow at Saskia, and you’re not sure that he wants to know.

“We have a doctor who marathon and dad has to watch every, single, episode with us.” 

“I like Doctor Who,” Aaron defends.

“You don’t like ‘The Empty Child’, or ‘The Doctor Dances’,” Saskia starts and she’s ticking them off on her fingers. Buying the boxsets was a mistake you plan to make until she doesn’t like Doctor Who anymore. “Or ‘Fear her’, or ‘42’. But then we’re going to watch ‘The Runaway Bride ‘ AND ‘Smith and Jones’ because we all like those two.”

“Well, choose two of those and we can watch them,” you say, which has Saskia collapsing back into her seat and thinking through the pros and cons of each.

“Nice flowers,” Saskia says after ten minutes. “Are they for home?”

“Yeah,” Aaron responds, smiling at you softly.

“Cool! Can Jack and I choose a pot on the weekend?” 

You smirk at Aaron, squeezing his thigh. “Yeah, Sweets, you totally can.” And you glance at her in the rearview mirror to see her stroking each petal with the back of her fingers, talking through her Doctor Who dilemma with the pansies.

And you’re reminded for the hundredth time that everything’s going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ! updates are going to be a lil slow, it's assessment time and writing a 2500 word essay takes a lot more time than writing a chapter haha ~!  
> ~I just want to say; thank you to everyone that keeps reading! I re-read some of this fic for some of the Garcia/JJ convo and thought 'ew' lol~


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some soft, happy, mom&dad time before i disappear for a couple of days~ enjoy!

Saskia's soft, precious, snores travel down the corridor to the lounge where you and Aaron are playing a game of double solitaire with a deck of cards Spence had left at the apartment.

Aaron nudges you with his shoulder as Saskia makes a small 'meow' noise as she rolls over (that's a noise you've gotten used to) and you glance at him.

"I know Felix was the spawn of Satan, but I'm glad you got Saskia out of him," he says as he ruins your next two moves. 

"Me too," you smile, finishing a stack and claiming it. "Spawn of Satan? I mean, you're not wrong."

"Agent Fornell wrote it in his field notes, I was looking over a profile one of his agents wrote up."

"Was it about his wife?" You laugh. Aaron raises an eyebrow at you, pausing the game. "He's Saskia's Emily's dad. My old boss."

"He's a short, bald, old man," Aaron says as if the thought disgusts him.

"His ex-wife is hot though," you tease. “And if his undercover work is anything to go by he’s probably great in bed.”

“You would go to bed with a short, bald, old man?”

“No,” you say, turning away from him. “I might have to compromise in a couple of years though, I might have to be going to bed with a bald old man.”

“Why?” He says and you point at him. “Unbelievable.”

“I love you,” you tease, leaning into him. “Even if you get old and bald.”

“I’ll love you even if you’re old and bald,” Aaron responds into your temple. 

“I will never get old and bald, I’m going to live young forever,” you say dismissively which makes Aaron chuckle. “Mm, Billy asked if I wanted to know more about what Mom did.”

“Yeah?” Aaron says, putting his deck down to give you his full attention. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” you respond, tucking your legs beneath you. “He invited us to dinner next week if we wanted to discuss it.”

“We?” Aaron says curiously and you nod.

“We,” you confirm. “And Saskia can have a play date with Lakhi.” 

“Okay,” he says, maybe a little confused but you can’t blame him. You’d both resigned yourselves to keeping it a secret from the other. And maybe there would be more secrets, but at least there would be a little bit of openness between the two of you. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Aaron asks, resting a hand on your knee. 

“I just want to know,” you say quietly, leaning into him. “And then maybe, if it feels right, I might want to look into it.”

He cups your face lightly, stroking your cheeks. “I think you should look into it, I think it’s something you’d do very well in.”

“You think?”

“Babe, you kept your house when you could have sold it to give it to single mothers who need it. The first thing you did when the doctor’s cleared you for heavy lifting was fill the cupboards, make the bed, and take Saskia toy shopping for a mother and son that were moving in later that day.”

“You remember that?”

“I remember waiting for you to call because you’d hurt yourself.” 

You roll your eyes, leaning in to kiss him. He grabs you by the waist, pulling you into his lap as he kisses you, lips parting softly as you lower yourself onto his lap, legs wrapped around him. 

“And if I have to leave work?” You murmur against his lips.

“Then I’ll come home more often,” he says, hands sneaking under your shirt as he pulls you closer to him.

“That’d be nice,” you say softly like you’re not as bad as each other and haven’t spent most nights at work whenever Saskia’s at your dad’s. 

All conversation drops off when Aaron returns to kissing you, fingers grazing against the clasp of your bra as he tries to multitask. Tries, being the operative word because the moment your hands find his hair he seems to forget where he is, what he’s doing. The only thing he knows how to do in that moment is kiss you, the rest of his body slowly catching up.

He drops his head to your neck, mouthing at the soft skin, not enough to leave marks but it’s enough to teeter on the edge euphoric. He nudges your shirt out the way with his nose, a lot less gentle the soft skin of your shoulder than he had been with your neck. When he starts pulling your shirt free and working down your chest.

“Aar,” you breathe as he peppers light kisses over the tops of your breasts. “PG out here, Sas could wake up any moment.”

He pauses, grazes his teeth over where his lips had just been, and then brings himself back to your neck.

“Do you still have that suit?” Aaron murmurs into your neck, nipping at the skin softly.

“Uh,” you say, trying to order your thoughts. “Yes?” 

“Wear it tomorrow,” he says before attaching himself to your neck. You know he’s going to leave bruises.

You run your nails through his hair, scraping against his scalp. You feel the way his breath quickens against you, his chest rising and falling, breath muffled against your neck. 

“We can move somewhere more comfortable,” you offer when you shift in Aaron’s lap and he makes the tiniest little moan. 

“I have paperwork,” Aaron mumbles.

“No you don’t,” you say softly. “Not here. Not with me here.” You snake your hand down his chest, palm falling to his sizeable bulge. “Not with this.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, his eyes just flutter and he squeezes your butt. “Paperwork can wait.”

You slip off his lap, taking his hand as you lead him to the bedroom. Saskia’s still asleep, thank god, still snoring happily. You tug Aaron into his bedroom, trying to free yourself from your pants effortlessly but it ends up being a tangle of clothes that you’re sure would’ve had you flat on your face if it hadn’t been for the way Aaron catches you, scooping you up into his arms.

He drops you onto the mattress, shedding his own clothes. You make quick work of what’s left of your clothes, discarding them to the floor. Aaron looks like he might let it be, but then he quickly picks up what he can, throwing anything that needs to be washed into the laundry basket, folds the clean stuff, and you half wonder how he’s still anywhere near in the mood when he falls onto the mattress and reattaches his mouth to yours.

His hands wander over your body, fingers stuttering at your scars and he stops kissing you, pulling back to look at you face to face.

“This okay?” He asks softly, the pad of his thumb tracing over the scar that arches just above your hip.

“I can’t feel it,” you say, your head falling against the mattress.

“Not what I asked,” he murmurs, guiding your chin to look at him. “Are you okay if I touch them?”

“Yeah, Aar, you know I am,” you whisper but it doesn’t convince him. He pulls his hand away, letting them fall elsewhere and returns to kissing you. 

For a heartbeat you’re relieved that he pulled his hand away, until your brain decides to convince you that he only pulled away because he thinks that they’re atrocious. You grab Aaron’s wrist lightly, guiding his hand back to the scar. He stops kissing you, smiling softly as he nods at you.

He drags his thumb over the scar, then brings it back softly, skirting around the edges where you can actually feel it, before returning to the scar.

“Why don’t you hate them?” You ask softly when Aaron kisses over your breasts, down your stomach, stopping to kiss at each and every scar.

“They’re a part of you,” Aaron offers, resting his chin on your stomach as he looks up at you. You run your hand through his hair, smiling at he nuzzles into your hand like a content cat.

“Wish they weren’t,” you grumble. 

“Me too, but they are, and they’re kind of hot.”

“Oh?” You whisper and he nods.

“I’ve never met someone with scars like these, makes you one of a kind.” The look he gives you is so soft and he presses a kiss to your stomach. “And it reminds me not to take you for granted.”

“That’s very sweet,” you smile, even if it’s forced because you feel like you’re about to cry.

“I mean it,” he says forcefully. “Look at me, I mean it. You might hate them, but I don’t. I hate the man who gave them to you, but I do not hate them, understood? They’re a part of you and I could never hate a part of you.”

“I understand,” you say softly.

“Do you?” He says just as softly. 

“Yeah.”

“No you don’t.” 

“I do,” you scoff and Aaron shakes his head, dragging his lips over your scars. 

“You’d better,” he whispers, a hand fumbling with your breast until he gets a good enough rhythm going.

If Aaron had a plan to go do his paperwork, it’s all completely gone. He spends an eternity kissing your scars, then spends another eternity making sweet, slow, love to you while he whispers how beautiful you are—scars and all—into your ear. Every time you try to do something from him he stops you, insisting this is just for you.

He pulls you into his side while you’re still in post-orgasm bliss, nuzzling into your hair. 

“I love you,” he says. “Scars and all.”

“I love you too, Aar,” you whisper nuzzling into his chest. You’re drifting off to sleep when something dawns on you. “Aaron, how did Billy know we were married? That’s not common knowledge.”

“I told him,” he mumbles.

“Hmm?” You say, prodding his chest. 

“I told him,” he sighs dramatically. “When I punched him. Sparring.” He presses his face into you so you can’t see him. “I told him to stop looking at my wife’s files.”

“Cute,” you tease.

Aaron might roll his eyes, but you can’t tell. He just fakes his little snore and squeezes your shoulders


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~alternatively named: The Mouse House, and 'there are no secrets in the BAU'~

“Where they’d go?” you ask as you come back into the kitchen, looking around for Saskia and her red-haired Emily. Aaron looks up from the block tower he’s building with Jack and shrugs. 

“I think they said something about ponies?” Aaron says.

“My little pony?” you prompt.

“I dunno, I think they’re Sas’s,” he says and he’s completely serious.

“Dad, that’s what they’re called,” Jack corrects before he pulls a block from the very bottom of their tower and it comes toppling down on top of Aaron. Aaron laughs when Jack does, pulling his son onto his lap.

“Are they?” Aaron asks, brow furrowing. 

“Yes, Aaron, that’s what they’re called.” You kiss both their heads as you pass them, going to Saskia’s room where Emi and Saskia have taken over the entire thing, mixing their ‘My Little Pony’ and ‘Littlest Pet Shop’ together. 

It seems to make sense to them, even if you can’t make sense of it. Saskia waves to you, still spinning the treehouse carousel because the batteries ran out forever ago and you haven’t had time to fix it. 

“Do you guys want to choose dinner or breakfast?” you ask. 

“Chicken pizza,” the girls say in unison.

A very, notably, Jack choice. He’s always wanting either pancakes or the chicken satay pizza that Aaron’s perfected since highschool. You squint playfully at Saskia who shrugs.

“I actually do want the pizza,” she smiles. “And Emi’s never had it before.”

“Mom’s on a health kick and we only have salad, and Dad only eats from this really gross Indian Take-away,” Emily says dismissively. “The pizza sounds good.”

“Okay,” you drag out as long as you can. “Make sure this goes away before Dad sees it.”

“Mom!” Saskia says as you’re about to leave. You listen to the clatter of LPS houses and stores falling over, then Saskia hauling herself up her bed ladder, before you turn back. “Look what Auntie Haley got me.”

She holds out two Taylor Swift albums to you and you know they’re going to get played until the songs can actively be used as torture devices for both you and Aaron. You’re pretty sure if someone put Aaron in a room with no windows and blasted any Hannah Montana song he’d give up state secrets. 

“Auntie Haley is spoiling you,” you say fondly. “Don’t take her for granted.”

“Can we make her a card tomorrow?” 

“Sure.”

“Pizza?” Aaron says as you come back in.

“What gives you that idea?” you ask as Jack launches for you and drags you to the blocks. Aaron pulls out his phone and hands it to you. You frown at him, checking his text messages. His text from “Most Important Daughter” (bless Saskia’s ability to get into Aaron’s phone whenever she wants) is all the ingredients for his pizza. Then there’s just a text message that says “pretty please please please”. 

“Who’s your other daughter if Saskia’s your most important?” you ask as Jack presses a handful of green blocks into your hands.

“Build,” Jack orders, pointing at the walls he’s building.

“What are we building?” 

“A house for mice,” he tells you. “Those need to be on this side.” He points to a single wall and guides your blocks to it.

“Do we have mice?” 

Aaron shakes his head and hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. Jack makes a small ‘ewwww’ complaint but then Saskia’s coming out with handfuls of LPS mice that she drops into the lid of the box the blocks are kept in.

“Thanks Saski,” Jack says. “It’s going to be a good house.”

“Come get me and Emi when you’re done, I want to see.” And then Saskia’s gone back to her room. 

You help Jack build his mouse house, which he knocks down a couple of times because he comes up with something better and something newer. Aaron kisses your shoulder as you climb off his lap to help Jack build the mouse bedroom, telling Jack he’ll be back as he goes to start dinner. 

You and Jack spend what genuinely could be hours building windows in Jack’s mouse house, then move some things around so you can build mouse beds. When he’s done he brushes off his hands in a very Haley way and nods to himself.

“I’m goin’ get Saski,” he says, placing all five of his mice very carefully. Then he runs down the corridor, leaving you to pull yourself up from the ground and join Aaron in the kitchen.

“Anything I can do to help?” you ask.

“Stand there and look pretty?” he offers, smiling as you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head between his shoulder blades.

“I’m so good at that, someone should pay me,” you tease. “Can the pretty one get you a glass of wine?”

“Little one,” he says. “I’ll have more after dinner.”

You grab wine glasses out the cupboard and quarter fill them. 

“Haley bought Saskia two Taylor Swift albums,” you tell him and he groans.

“Do we like Taylor Swift?”

“‘We’ make up our own minds about our music tastes,” you tease. “Do you still like country music?”

“Yes,” he says, not meeting your eyes. 

“Then you’ll be fine,” you smile, kissing his cheek.

“Don’t tell the team.”

“Babe, Garcia wanted to know what you’re like in bed and I said zilch.”

Which, of course, is when the kids manage to come back in.

“Did you tell her that Dad snores sometimes?” Saskia asks. “That’s something Auntie Pen might want to know.”

“I did not, but I’ll remember that for next time.”

“And that he likes to hug the pillows.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Aaron says, his face red. “I’m the one making your dinner.”

Saskia shrugs then drops to Jack, asking him about his mouse house. When she seems to be content with Jack’s sound architectural building she says, “Jack, would it be okay if Emi and I played with you and your mouse house? Emi is the turtles and I’m the bunnies.”

The way Jack’s whole body seems to radiate with happiness practically lights up the whole apartment and he’s nodding excitedly. Saskia takes his hand to help bring a rabbit house and turtle house through to the lounge.

Aaron just smiles at you like he knows something you don’t, his eyes going soft. 

“What?” you laugh and he just puts the knife down and cups your cheek before kissing you lightly. He never answers you, but the way he looks at you is enough. 

When dinner’s done and eaten, the kids having thoroughly cleaned their plates, Aaron scoops up Jack for a bath and bed. Emily and Saskia settle down to watch the second Princess Diaries once they’ve returned everything back to their rightful spaces. They’re both curled up together, a blanket drawn over them. Aaron glances them over and covers his curiosity with a small smile when Saskia looks at him. 

“Reminds me of you and Haley,” Aaron murmurs as he joins you at the table where you’re trying to complete one of Spence’s crosswords that he photocopied for you. 

“They’ll probably keep you up the same way, too,” you offer. 

“Mmmm… probably not,” he says as he pulls out a law peer review journal that he gets in the post every now and then. Which definitely makes him a ninety-year-old man, no matter how old he really is. 

“They’re not as well behaved as you think,” you whisper and Aaron just reaches across the table, patting your hand. 

The girls go to bed relatively well, save for the spurts of giggles and hushed whispers that are way too loud. But there comes a point where they self regulate themselves (Saskia tells Emi that they can’t wake Jack or they’ll be in a world of pain) and they actually stick to whispering. Most of the self regulation definitely comes from the fact that they’ve both pulled out their DS’s, which has them both tap, tap, tap, tap, tapping between giggles. 

“Much better than you and Haley,” Aaron says as you both pull the sheets back on the bed.

“They haven’t hit one a.m yet, that’s the witching hour for giggles.”

“As long as they don’t wake Jack,” Aaron says.

“Honestly, I think Jack and the girls all have a plan to end up in the lounge by dawn.” 

“Sounds about right.”

You climb into bed, followed by Aaron, who grabs a book from his ever growing pile on the nightstand. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest as he opens his book. 

It’s become a nightly ritual that he reads his book while you pretend to read along with him, although sometimes you do get invested enough to stop him from turning the page. It’s mostly just so the two of you can be close, the majority of the time you doze off listening to his heart beat, feeling his chest rise and fall rhythmically against your cheek.

“Hey, Bub?” you ask quietly as he pauses reading to check if you’ve finished reading the page too. “What was dinner about?”

“Eating?”

You rest your hand on his stomach, cheek on his chest, looking up at him. “When you looked at me.”

“I was thinking about how nervous I was when we started dating because I thought Saskia and Jack would hate each other. Not like they knew each other already and were already thick as thieves.” He chuckles kissing your hair. “Sean and I never got along, and I’ll blame that on my parents. But we just do so many cases where these kinds of families are triggers for our unsubs that I forgot we deal with outliers.”

“You thought Jack and Saskia would hate each other? You know that Saskia practically adopted him the first time they met, right?”

“I know,” Aaron chuckles and presses a kiss to your hair. “I was nervous.”

“You’re cute.”

“Hush.” He shakes the book lightly, drawing your attention back to it. “Are you done?”

“I wasn’t reading.”

You swear he rolls his eyes with his whole body. It’s those moments of domesticity that makes the world feel right.

****

Jack’s bundled up in a thousand layers, one of them being Aaron’s scarf. It wraps around his body at least ten times, making his neck look like a pool floaty, but he insisted that he ‘had to wear it’. There was something in there about it helping him fight dragons, although you weren’t really listening. 

Emi’s been dropped at home after an eventful morning where Aaron almost lit the pancakes on fire, and then Emi’s parents couldn’t figure out which one of them had Emi this weekend so you’d really just driven around in circles trying not to alert Emi to it. So now you’ve got both kids in the back of the car who are determined to get the best pot for the pansies. 

They take it way too seriously, which is mainly Aaron’s fault. You guess it’s his way of processing his grief as he crouches with Saskia and Jack, asking them ‘why this one’ and ‘maybe not that one’. You’re so engrossed watching Aaron with the kids that you barely notice Prentiss before she comes up beside you, pressing a hand to your back.

“What’s all this on your day off?” she whispers and you jump a little.

“Emily! The kids are choosing a pot for the flowers Garcia bought me.” You turn to her, smiling at the small trolley of house plants. “These look fancy.”

“Ahhh, I hadn’t gotten a plant in a while. I thought I’d grab some while we’re not running off on a case.”

“These ones are poisonous to cats,” you say, flicking the hyacinths. 

“Ah, shit, thanks.” She pulls the pot towards her, pouting a little. “But they’re so pretty.”

“If you’ve got somewhere Sergio can’t get to them, keep them, if not you’ve gotta put ‘em back.”

“Ever my voice of reason.” 

Jack gasps and thrusts a hand out, pointing to a pot that’s just out of reach even for Saskia. Aaron scoops him into his arms as he stands, pointing to each pot. At first he’s genuinely trying to figure out which one Jack’s pointing at, but then it’s just so Jack and Saskia can laugh at him whenever he’s wrong.

“How’re you doing?” you ask Emily, watching as Saskia guides Aaron’s arm by his elbow to the right pot.

“Up and down, but today’s good. Thanks. Are you doing better? You look like you are.”

“Yeah, little bit. They don’t hurt anymore.” 

“I bet Hotch thinks they’re hot,” she teases, bumping hips playfully. 

“It took him a little bit, but he does now,” you say, smiling at Jack when he swivels in Aaron’s arms to wave at you.

“He’s good with them,” Emily drops her voice so Aaron doesn’t hear her praise.

“Yeah.”

“Any movement on the Hotchlette front?”

God, of course, it would have been so much easier if you’d just told everyone straight up. She catches your hesitation and puts an arm around your shoulder, gifting you a surprisingly comfortable side hug. 

“The flowers?”

“Yeah.”

She kisses your temple which surprises you, then pulls your head to her shoulder. Aaron looks genuinely surprised when he turns around to see you and Emily. Jack goes shy, retracting into Aaron’s scarf. Saskia waves, holding the pot close to her chest. 

“Do you like it?” Saskia asks both of you as she shows you the pot, turning it with the dragon and princess painting on one side.

“That’s very cute,” you assure her.

“Cool.” Her eyes fall to a new shelf and she grabs the hem of Aaron’s jumper, tugging him towards it.

Emily laughs and shakes her head.

“Saskia’s precious,” Emily whispers. 

“I know,” you smile. “Sorry that I didn’t tell you.”

“Oh, hun, you didn’t need to tell me. This was a you thing.” She rubs your back strongly. “Are you doing okay? Considering?”

“Yeah,” you groan. “Uh, it’s just you and Aaron, Morgan and Garcia that know. I don’t want to keep secrets from them, but I don’t…”

“Some things are easier to keep personal,” Emily says quietly, knowingly. 

“Yeah. If you ever want to keep something personal, I recommend you get it sealed from Garcia.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Mom!” Saskia says as she comes back. “Can you put the pot back?”

“Are we not getting it?” you ask as she presses it into your hands. She shakes her head as Aaron follows, Jack holding a box of ‘paint your own flower pots’. You nod as Aaron smiles. 

You put the pot back as Aaron introduces Emily and Jack, Jack shaking Emily’s hand clumsily. 

“The perfect gentleman,” Emily says, exaggerating how flattered she is. Jack giggles and goes back into the scarf like a turtle. “That’s a very big scarf.”

“It’s Daddy’s,” Jack says, his voice muffled by the scarf.

“That it is,” Aaron smiles. 

“Well, I’ll see you guys at work,” Emily smiles, kissing your cheek. “Look after yourself young lady.”

“You too,” you smile as she waves at everyone else and backs her trolley up and loses herself in the aisles once more. 

****

Text from: Emily’s Apprentice.  
If you ever need a night away from the kids, I’m always free for dinner.

Text from: Emily’s Apprentice.  
That includes work kids.

Saskia makes a humming noise that tears you away from your phone, dipping her paintbrush into the paints. She’s taking the painting of the pots incredible seriously, she even thumbnailed what she was going to paint. 

Jack’s looks like Jack’s done it, which is so precious. He’s painted more of Aaron than he’s painted of his pot. His hands are covered, and his hair, and Aaron’s almost matching him. He’s got green over his forehead, yellow under his chin. Blue in his hair. Then there you are, completely void of paint. 

Aaron laughs and splutters as Jack hands him the paintbrush, although Jack miscalculates and shoves the paintbrush straight into Aaron’s mouth. Saskia looks up quickly, smiles, and then she goes back to her painting. 

“Mom,” she says softly, reaching blindly out for you. “Can I have your hand please?”

“Sure, Sweet,” you say, frowning as you hold your hand to her. She takes it, dipping your finger into the red paint. 

She scrunches her face up in concentration then presses your finger tip to the pot at two different, and awkward, angles.

“There,” she says then she makes grabby hands for Aaron. “Dad, hand please.” She repeats the action, picks up her pot, and gets Jack to do the same. “Hearts,” she says simply and happily. She draws a black outline around them and puts her paintbrush down.

“I’m done,” she exclaims. “Can I go read my book please?”

“Yeah, wash your hands first.”

Aaron pulls you over to help Jack, which immediately has you covered in paint. Not just because Jack flings it everywhere while he tries to explain to you what he’s doing, but also because Aaron wipes his fingers over your face to get rid of the paint. 

When Jack’s not looking Aaron takes the opportunity to kiss you, which is sweet until you taste the acidic paint which makes you grimace. 

“I hope that paint isn’t poisonous,” you whisper, wiping the corner of his mouth clean. 

“It’s taking us all out if it is,” he says.

It takes forever to clean Jack up, but when he’s finally paint free he joins Saskia reading. While he can’t read, Saskia happily obliges by reading her own to him. You grab a wet towel for Aaron, wiping it softly over his face until you have to scrub a little harder.

The paint in his hair has dried enough that you can get it off by rubbing the hair between your fingers. He tilts his head up so you can’t reach and you shake your head, pushing him down onto the toilet seat. He grins at you as you wring out the towel, wet it again, and wipe his face once more. 

“Hey,” he says softly, resting his hands on your hips. “I love you.” 

“N’aw, love you too,” you smile, kissing his nose. 

“Thank-you for today.” He says it like it’s a confession.

You frown but smile anyway. “Of course.”

“I needed it. I didn’t think I did, but I did.”

“I know you did,” you smile, cupping his cheeks. “Next time we’re wearing hazmats suits, though. This paint is impossible to get out. What kind of kid’s paint is this?”

“‘Piss-off-the-parents’ paint, I think,” he teases. 

“POTPP? Doesn’t roll off the tongue.”

“Sounds like something we’d investigate at work.” 

The moment between the two of you is broken when Saskia and Jack start chanting ‘mouse house’ from the lounge and then there’s a commotion and you’re sure they’re pulling everything out of their rooms to build a mouse house together again.

“I might love them, but I never want to hear about a mouse house ever again.”

“BAU’s next case,” you say like it’s a news headline. “Murder in the mouse house.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished 1/3 essays so i just pumped this out. (as you do)
> 
> ~It occurred to me while I was writing my essays that Garcia and JJ are literal babies compared to Prentiss and Mom, and that Prentiss & Mom probably have some great girls nights without the smols~


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~mom&emily have dinner, mom has nightmares, the end.~

There’s this hip and happening restaurant you’ve always wanted to visit but it’s not quite Aaron’s cup of tea so you’ve never gone. However, Emily had a booking. You debate over it for a while because Saskia's at home, and Aaron's buried in paperwork, but the moment you think to ask your dad or Haley to watch Saskia Aaron suddenly finds it in himself to leave the office before five and says he can do it. 

It’s not that Emily and you were never friends. You were work friends before anything, despite that the BAU were the closest thing ‘work friends’ ever got to ‘real friends’. But as you and Emily start to get to know each other better than work, you think ‘real friends’ could be an actual possibility. 

“I can’t believe we never met with all the relocations your dad had,” Emily says over her wine and pasta.

“He holed me up at a boarding school for a bit,” you say dismissively. “Then I was old enough to live off his money.” Emily cocks her head at you and you shrug. “If he went away for a couple of weeks he’d just put a bunch of cash in the bread box and tell me to fend for myself.”

“That’s horrible.”

“So cool for a fifteen-year-old, though. This pasta is really good.” 

“So good,” Emily smiles. “What boarding school did you go to?”

“Georgies,” you say, shortening the name before you can even think about it.

“Ooft, that place was horrible. They had a self regulated discipline system, right? I had a friend who went there.”

“Oh, yeah, the student body controlled all the discipline. That’s how I got so good at blocking punches.” You don’t realise how dark that sounds until it’s left your mouth. “Who was your friend?”

“Cathy Melrose.”

“No way, Rosie Cathy? She was so cool.” Phenomenal kisser too, even better than the Eddy’s boys. Probably better than Aaron if you really thought about it. “We went to theatre camp together in the eighties. Her clothes were always so cool.”

“She was a goth,” Emily laughs.

“A hot goth,” you correct. 

“I don’t want to over step boundaries on our first hang out without our dashing, hot, blonde friends,” Emily says, pushing her pasta around with her fork. “You and Hotch’s ex-wife--”

“Haley,” you say, giving her permission to continue.

“Were you two ever… an item?”

You stop eating, looking at her for maybe longer than you should, then nod.

“Yeah, for a little bit. I mean, we were teenagers, who’d have been kicked out if either of our parents found out. So… like… we were just gal pals. Sapphic gal pals from the island of Lesbos.”

Emily smirks and starts eating again. “You guys just had that look in your eyes when we were at lunch after your dress fitting. A lot of history.”

“Oh, yeah, a lot of history. And now we’re here, both being married to Aaron Hotchner, of all people, at one time or another.”

Emily giggles and shakes her head. “The world is messy.”

“Yes it is. Am I crossing a boundary if I ask where on the scale you sit?”

“Scale?”

“Haley and I always had a scale, or a see-saw, we kind of sat in the middle and rolled around for a bit.”

“Uh, well, I’d sit on the girl side and throw pebbles to the other side every now and then.”

“Nice,” you smile. “This all stays between us, right?”

“Hell yeah,” Emily says through a mouthful. “Is it weird to say that it’s nice to be able to talk to someone that’s not a decade younger than me?”

You laugh. “God, no, that’s totally valid. I love the girls but sometimes I can’t fathom a single word they say.”

“Thank God,” Emily sighs. “I miss having you in the bullpen.”

“Sometimes I miss being in the bullpen,” you confess. “But I like coming home. And the field office worship my feet whenever I go in to help teach them about profiling.”

“Doesn’t that exhaust you?”

“Eh, most of the time. But it’s fun as a big ol’ fuck you whenever I walk in.” 

“Nice,” Emily chuckles. “I can’t believe we moved in the same circles for so long and never met each other.”

“Oh we would have never gotten along,” you say. “I don’t think.”

“I think I would have been intimidated by you,” Emily responds.

“No way.” You shake your head quickly. “Other way around.”

You both keep going back and forth like you’re both not realising that you would have been the closest of friends. 

“This was nice,” Emily smiles as she drops you at Aaron’s flat. 

“Thank-you,” you return as you grab your bag out. “It was nice to just chill.”

Emily gives you a playful, cocky smile and puts on a distinctly playful manly voice. “Maybe next time you can meet Sergio.”

“I dunno,” you say, grimacing just as playfully. “I like at least three dates before I meet pussy… cats.”

“Shame,” Emily sighs. “I’ll just have to take you out again.”

“I had a good time, Em,” you smile, dropping the game. “Thanks again.”

“I hope you don’t wake anyone up.”

“If Aaron’s anywhere near the bed it’ll be a gosh darn miracle, it was hard enough to convince him to leave the office.”

“Night.”

“Night,” you return, closing the door. 

You try to sneak into the apartment, but there’s no quiet way to walk with those heels down that hallway, and honestly it’ll take too long to undo the buckle. Aaron looks up from his desk when you inch the door open, smiling softly. 

“Did you have fun?” he asks. You nod, smiling as he turns in his chair so you can sit on his knee. 

“What’re you working on?” 

“Profiles,” he responds cryptically, closing one of the folders that looks at least ten years old. He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Saskia wants you to say goodnight even if she’s not awake.”

“Was she okay?”

“Why would she not be?” 

You deadpan him, which he returns, then you smile a little. 

“I’m going to go say night to Sas, then go to bed. Please don’t stay up late.”

He turns the heart shaped desk clock Saskia bought him for father’s day towards you and taps the face. Sure, yeah, it’s already two in the morning. You run your hand through his gel free hair and kiss his forehead. 

“I repeat, please don’t stay up late.”

“You still good for Billy’s tomorrow night?” He looks at the clock and sighs. “Tonight.”

“I won’t be if you wake me up at four thirty because you come to bed late, only to wake me up at five fourty-five because you have to go to work.” You cup his cheek, making sure he looks at you, then drop your hand and slide out of his lap. 

Saskia’s asleep, wrapped around Haley’s bear. She’s hung a white board from the railings on her bed.

‘Can you ask Auntie Haley if we can have bear custody?’ she’s written. Then in dramatically comical bubble writing she has ‘I love you!’ written. You snap a picture of both Saskia and the sign, and send it to your group chain with Haley and Aaron then write ‘I love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuu’ beneath.

Aaron’s still up when you’ve changed in your pj’s. You wrap your knuckles lightly on the wall, drawing his attention to you.

“Bed, Aaron,” you say in your best mom voice.

“Yeah, I’ll be in in a second.”

“Aar, the paperwork will still be there in the morning.”

“A second,” he repeats softly and you shake your head, but you know he’ll pull through.

****

He’s got you pinned, a drug strong enough to knock you out, but you still know what he’s doing. It’s like you’re awake but can’t move as he stabs you over and over and over. 

Only he hasn’t drugged you.

You just can’t move. 

Fear paralysis, which is ridiculous because you’ve had all the training. You know how to overcome all of that. But you just lie there.

It’s not a nightmare, you realise that as he grabs you by your armpits and dragging you through the underbrush to the barrels. You’re too weak to do anything much, but there’s a strong surge of something.

You’re not sure what the something is. It feels incredible. And shit. You thrash against him, and when it becomes apparent that you can’t get free, you manage to get your necklace under his hands as he manhandles you, then rip your neck back so the clasp breaks.

The memory doesn’t fade, it just… becomes less coherent. Morgan’s there, but he’s not, you can see him but it doesn’t feel right. Dave’s just looking at his notebook. JJ’s on the phone to Will. Haley’s in the barrel.

Haley.

Your body wakes you with a violent jolt, the image of Haley’s dead body seared into your brain. You can see it clearly every time you close your eyes. You think you’ve got it under control for a couple of seconds, lip quivering as you try to calm your breathing. 

You fall back against the pillows, listening to the blood rushing in your ears. Then you’re hot and cold all at once and you’re running to the bathroom just in time. 

Aaron finds you pressed up against the cold tile wall, actively trying not to move. He looks you over once then grabs a face towel, wetting it, and handing it to you.

“You okay?” he asks, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s not really asking. He just wants to know what happened.

“Bad dream,” you manage to croak out. “I told you to come to bed.”

“I know,” he whispers, squatting in front of you and pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Do you want me to text Strauss, get you the day off?”

“No,” you mewl, because while it sounds amazing you’re running out of days off for the year. You feel like you’ve got to save it for something you’d actually need. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head and pull your knees up to your chest. “I was awake. When he did it.”

Aaron’s eyes soften and he just looks at you like you’re his whole world. 

“I don’t want to remember, Aar.”

“I know you don’t,” he whispers and he shuffles to sit beside you. “I’m sorry.”

You let your head fall to his shoulder and you debate telling him what your dream divulged into. 

“Do you ever feel like something bad is going to happen?” you whisper instead and Aaron laces his hand in yours.

“Only every time Strauss comes to my office,” he says in a weak attempt at humour. 

“Please tell me you were up doing something other than paperwork.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs into your hair. “It’s dealt with.”

You nod slowly. 

“Bed?” he offers and you sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. Aaron watches you for a moment, then wraps you into a hug when he stands. “Do you want to see your psych tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll see if she’s free tomorrow,” you say into his chest and he nods.

He tucks you into bed and potters around the room for a little bit before finally coming to bed. He pulls you into his chest, burying his nose into your hair. 

“I love you,” he whispers and you reach over his body to intertwine your fingers with his. You want to say it back but you just keep seeing Haley over and over again so you just squeeze his hand.

“Aar?” you whisper, hoping he’s finally fallen asleep but he hums in response. “Do you ever wonder about collateral damage with all the serial killers we hunt?”

“Collateral damage?” 

“People we care about that didn’t sign up for this.”

“Jack and Saskia?” he asks.

You shake your head, no, and say “Yeah.”

“They’ll be okay, they’re safe,” he whispers. 

“Sure.”

***

You wake to Aaron climbing back into bed, and frown when you realise his body is blocking the light from the window. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “You don’t have to be at work until lunch.”

“I said no time off work,” you grumble but he pulls you into his chest anyway. He’s dressed for work and he smells like his work cologne with the strange undertones of something distinctly like the team. “Did you go to work without me?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Came home for a nap.”

“That’s a long drive for a nap.”

“Go back to sleep.”

He wakes you twenty minutes later, shaking you softly. “Your clothes are in the bathroom. I’ll get you some breakfast.”

“It was just a bad dream, Aar, you don’t have to do all this.”

“You and Haley are going for milkshakes after work,” he says like he hasn’t heard you. Then he strokes your cheek lightly and gives you a quick smile. “Doesn’t take a profiler to put two and two together.”

“I love you,” you smile as he picks your planner from beside the bed and throws it to the doona. 

“I also booked your psych, had a meeting with Saskia’s teacher--she’s fine, he was worried about a journal piece she wrote, got you and Haley in for milkshakes, pushed dinner with Billy back half an hour. Sas’s going home with Lakhi, I have Jack until you and Haley are done.”

“Saint.”

“And Emily thinks that it’s her offer of pussy on the third date that has you bed ridden?” he says, cocking an eyebrow.

“That better be some amazing pussy,” you groan, and when Aaron doesn’t stop looking at you like you’re possessed you smile. “Sergio. The ultimate pussy.”

“Cat,” Aaron finishes, shakes his head, and looks fed up with you. “Go get ready, there’s only so long I can hold Strauss off for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~The plan is: part two ends once Billy dips mom's toe into some fun new job opportunities. Part three starts with Foyet. I was going to put him in the end of this one, but I have the key points of Foyet's arc plotted out and the outline is like 20k words and that's just getting ridiculous.~
> 
> ~Also mom's not having a good time.~


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~direction? this fic had none~  
> ~come meet Billy and his fam~

“I hate this building,” Haley says the moment you get out of security and out into the sun. Honestly, it’s a breath of fresh air just to know she’s okay. Like she’s confirming it was just a bad dream. 

“Look, me too, but it pays the bills.” You smile at an agent who’s going in, frowning deeply at you like you’ve offended him. 

She opens her arms for a hug and you quickly fill them, rocking her side to side affectionately. 

“Where’s Jack?”

“Aaron’s taking him and Sas and... Lucky,” she hesitates with Lakhi's name and you quickly correct her, “for milkshakes and brownies. Something about paperwork. I don’t think he wanted to worry you.”

“Sometimes he’s sweet, other times he’s a pain in my ass.”

“I feel you,” she chuckles, letting go of the hug and putting her hand in your back pocket. “Where to?”

“I was going to take you to brownies but that’s one-hundred-percent where Aaron’s taken the kids.” You wrap your arm around her shoulder and rest your head against hers before you both start walking. “Where do you want to go?”

“There’s this new chocolate store around the corner I don’t want to subject Jack to,” she says airily, then she’s tugging you in what you assume is the direction. “I heard you had a rough night.”

“Really?” you laugh, not looking at her. 

“Saskia was up and down all night, I’d rung about something a ten and I felt like she was screaming next to me.”

You frown because Aaron didn’t say anything. 

“He’s good with her, don’t worry,” Haley continues. “Sucks that she has nightmares, though. I was surprised when you sent that picture and she was asleep.”

“Aar didn’t say anything,” you mutter. 

“He had it under control,” Haley reassures you. 

“Of course he did,” you chuckle. 

“Was there something else?”

“Nope,” you say softly as you squeeze her shoulder.

“Okay,” she responds in a cynical tone. “Did he sleep last night?”

“I’ve got no idea, Hales.” You reach up and mess with the back of her hair, then soothe it down. “Can we make a deal not to discuss the kids?”

“We’re discussing Aaron,” she defends and you give her an ‘exactly’ look which makes her laugh. 

The chocolate store is genuinely the best thing you’ve ever been to. It’s aesthetically pleasing, somehow looking like you’ve walked into some cute 1960’s esque Bond movie. And, yeah, it really isn’t a place where you’d want to take the kids. For starters, everything costs an arm and a leg. And they practically come out on gold plates. 

Cute little bowls warmed by little tea light candles. You and Haley split the share plate evenly before spearing them and dipping it into the chocolate. You talk about stupid things like the weather, and then about TV shows neither of you are actually up to date with. 

Then, like it’s a drug neither of you can give up, you go back to discussing the kids. Jack’s started school and he’s adorable with his backpack that’s too big for him. Saskia can have custody of the bear as long as Haley can have visitation rights every other weekend. Evil plans to get Aaron to sleep more than two hours a day (one involved drugging his tea, but it’s a bad idea because what if drug tests come through and then you have to explain that). (Also morals).

You meet Aaron and Jack outside the FBI office, both of them lounging on the grass on top of Aaron’s jacket. You wonder why he isn’t being anal about grass stains until you see the coffe stain that’s already on his jacket and you assume he’s just given it to the suit jacket gods or something.

Jack claps when he sees you and Haley, flinging himself from the jacket into Haley’s arms as she lowers herself. 

“You had brownies without me?” you say in faux hurt as Aaron stands. He shrugs and splays his hands defensively before swinging his jacket over his shoulder. 

“Saskia asked,” he says like it lets him off the hook. 

“Uh huh and who’s the adult?”

Aaron just shakes his head and squeezes your shoulder. 

“We’ll see you guys later, yeah?” Haley says as she adjusts her hold on Jack. 

“Soon rather than later,” you add.

“Yes Ma’am.”

****

Billy’s house is way out of a town, in some decommission military base that’s been revamped. It’s not government money, that’s for sure, it looks halfway to tacky and the gates really aren’t government…

God, you sent Saskia to hang out at a gated community that doesn’t even look legal. 

“We let Sas go here?” you ask quietly as Aaron hands your ID over to the gate guy.

“Yeah,” Aaron says, frowning. “Garcia ran him through the database twice. He’s a legit guy.”

“Legit guy?” you scoff. Aaron just reaches over and squeezes your knee.

“She’s never been safer,” he says softly and you nod, pressing yourself into his carseat like it’s engulfing you in a hug. 

The house is at the end of the cul-de-sac, he’s sitting on the second story balcony, and raises a hand in greeting as you pull in.

“This guy’s really here to show us up,” you grumble. 

Aaron laughs softly and kisses your cheek. “You’re the one who said you wanted to do this.”

“Not before I found out he lives in this hippy revamped gated community in a house I can’t even afford in my sleep.”

Aaron looks you up and down softly. “We could afford a place like this, if you want.”

“I was joking, Aar,” you smile, but when you look at him he’s deadly serious. “Let’s actually get married before we talk about houses, I like your apartment.”

“You like waking the neighbours up with your shoes going click, click, click down the hallway.” He taps his fingers to his thumbs like he’s trying to imitate it. 

“Yes I do. So does Saskia.”

Billy meets you at the front door, still in his suit pants and shirt from work, an oversized Harvard jumper pulled over his work shirt that could honestly stop at his knees, but you can’t tell because it’s half tucked into his pants.

“The kids are upstairs playing Sing Star. Be prepared to block your ears.” He steps out the way, beckoning the two of you inside. Sure enough, yeah, you really do need to block your ears. Someone’s in tune, but it’s definitely not a voice you know.

He leads you through what feels like a thousand hallways until you get to the kitchen, where a man you do know is slaving over the stove. He sees you, lighting up as he puts his wooden spoon down.

“You’re okay,” he says excitedly. He’s the guy who handed you your mother’s envelope, the one with the coordinates on the back of the photograph. “Do you know how hard you are to find? Pure fluke of luck that Billy found you when he got that promotion.” He reaches over the kitchen island to shake your hand. “I’m Pete.”

“Y/N,” you smile, shaking it. “And this is Aaron.”

“You’re the one who messed up his eye,” Pete says like he’s proud of Aaron. 

“Hush,” Billy says and he actually blushes as he kisses Pete’s cheek. “I hope you guys like pasta, Pete’s on a bit of a creamy pasta kick.”

“Yeah, pasta’s good,” Aaron says, nodding. 

“Sorry to get you to meet here, we had some things we needed to follow up,” Billy says. “But, uh, this is one of the places your Mom set up. Sorry if security were a little brash.”

“They were fine,” you reassure.

Billy talks to you about the security measures, and the relocation program. There’s still summer camps that are revamped for high risk people (namely those who are legally dead, and would set off alarm bells if they were seen in public), but most of the relocation (or, over glorified Witness Protection, as Pete corrects with a quick wink in your direction) is in reclaimed suburbs just like the one. 

There’s one or two towns, even a couple of ranches, but those--in Billy’s own words--are closer to cults. 

All groups have their own internal database, all visitors are logged online (with way too many lines of defence you think Garcia would die trying to get in), offline, in harddrives and intranets, and by hand. It seems a little over the top until Billy shows pulls up your ID, visual confirmation at the gate, and the log as to where your car stopped, started, how long it took you to get out of the car.

“Big brother’s always watching,” you laugh quietly.

“Big brother has to watch when trained killers are coming for you,” Pete says. He flicks a light switch on the wall, which does nothing in the kitchen, but there’s a flurry of feet from upstairs and Saskia and Lakhi are launching off the fourth step.

“Hands!” Lakhi says before you can even say hi to Saskia and they’re racing each other to the bathroom. 

“She’s a really good kid,” Pete smiles and you can’t help but nod, because… yeah. Of course she is.

“Mom!” Saskia says as she bounces back into the kitchen area, wrapping herself around your waist. She pats Aaron’s hand without letting you go like that’s enough greeting. “The Shakespeare’s have dogs. Butcher is the nicest.”

God, the way Aaron turns like he’s suddenly been put on high alert and Billy laughs deeply.

“Butcher’s a pomeranian corgi cross,” Billy says as he hands expertly piles three bowls of pasta onto one arm. “Rob named him.”

“Have to have a dog that reminds Dad of the motherland,” says Rob as he takes the stairs one at a time, the oxygen tank clunking behind him. “Hey Agent Hotchner.”

“Hotch!” Saskia says above Aaron’s practically meek “it’s Aaron”. 

“Hotch, alright,” Rob chuckles. “Sas belong to you?”

Aaron shakes his head and points to you which you just correct to “Us” which makes Aaron all precious and blushy. It doesn’t occur to you that it’s the first time you’ve ever said that parenting Saskia is a both of you thing. You take a couple of plates, despite Pete’s insistence that he has it, and then you’re all making small talk over dinner. Aaron gets the last decade and a bit condensed into five minutes and highly censored for the kids. Saskia tells you every eighty’s song she and Saskia did on singstar like you have no idea about songs from the eighties. 

After dinner Lakhi and Saskia drag out a Barbie Dreamhouse playset that you hope Saskia doesn’t get too attached to because she’s already got enough stuff. You’re not sure Saskia’s got enough space in her room to fit anything more, unless she starts storing toys in her wardrobe on top of her shoes. Billy makes a pot of tea while Pete explains what the job entails, and what level you could work it if you wanted to.

There’s one that particularly interests you. It’s mainly the paperwork side of relocating people and making them ‘disappear’. Knowing contacts that make fake IDs (you’ve got some of those from your undercover days, but it’s always nice to know more), knowing how to make people look like they’re dead. Keeping them off the radar while still keeping them in civilised society. Being able to snatch them out if things go south.

Honestly, you’re waiting for Aaron to ask if it’s legal. You’re waiting for him to ask anything. Instead he’s just watching you and complimenting the tea Billy made. He catches you looking back at him and smiles softly.

“This is your choice,” he says quietly.

“Aar, last time I made a choice without checking with you we ended up here.”

“Here isn’t so bad,” Aaron says, lifting his tea cup. 

“It’s all legal,” Pete assures you. “You’re already hired by the CIA to report back killing sprees. The three of us are, sorry Hotchner. It’s all covered under CIA.”

“Probably raise your CIA paycheck, too. Make everything that little bit more cushy,” Billy adds.

“She doesn’t take her CIA pay,” Pete says quietly and you can feel Aaron’s questioning gaze burning into you. Your eyes flick to Saskia who’s too preoccupied with making the doorbell ring on the Barbie house.

“It’s split in four,” you explain to Aaron. “Saskia and Jack have a tuition account, there’s a back up trickle in account for Haley if anything ever goes wrong, and an account we’ve technically already dipped into a couple of times. I use it to cover stuff the budget won’t at work. And I know you and Hales have Jack covered in tuition but I thought it couldn’t hurt after everything you’ve both don-”(e for me, but it’s cut off before Aaron kisses you).

“It’s fine,” he whispers. You can feel the way Pete and Billy look away, share a look between each other than seems to be understanding. 

“It won’t take you further away from home,” Pete says, motioning to Saskia. “Maybe once a year.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glancing to Saskia. 

“Do it,” Aaron says, nudging you with his foot. “It’s something you like doing, it’ll give you more of an excuse to leave the building.”

“Cursed building,” Billy says, knowing Aaron’s talking about the FBI HQ. 

“Can’t believe Pops let Dad go back, or even to it, god the transfer practically killed their marriage,” Rob says. “Do you guys want some brownies to take home? Saskia and Lakhi made them, I’ve been told they’re not as good as afternoon tea but they’re still pretty good.”

You and Aaron both nod. 

“I’ll do it,” you smile. “Yeah, I’ll work this whenever I’m needed.”

“Hell yeah!” Billy says excitedly before grimacing at the kids. “Welcome aboard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~thinking face: last chapter of this one? yeah i think so. Now we're birthing into the third part (which i'm hoping will be the final, although i think Scratch will have to be #4~


End file.
